NORTHEASTERN
UNIVERSITY
AN EMERGING GIANT: 1959-1975
Antoinette Frederick
/
NORTHEASTERN UNIVERSITY
VOLUME 1
Origin and Development of Northeastern University
1898-1960
VOLUME 2
Northeastern University: An Emerging Giant 1959-1975
Fabian Rachrach
Asa Smallidge Knowles
NORTHEASTERN
UNIVERSITY
AN EMERGING GIANT: 1 959- 1975
Antoinette Frederick
NORTHEASTERN UNIVERSITY CUSTOM BOOK PROGRAM,
BOSTON
All photographs not specifically credited to another source are used with
the courtesy and cooperation of Jet Commercial Photographers. Inc.
Copyright © 1982 by Northeastern University
LC 81—83407
Designed by Ann Twombly
Production coordinated by Eleanor Lubin
Manufactured in the United States of America
Composition by Modern Graphics. Randolph. Massachusetts
Printed and bound by The Alpine Press, Stoughton, Massachusetts
ACKNOWLEDGMENT
Unfortunately, it is impossible to thank individually all those who helped
in the preparation of this manuscript. I would like to express my appre-
ciation, however, to President Kenneth G. Ryder, whose support and en-
couragement made this project possible. I would also like to thank
Chancellor Asa S. Knowles, who very kindly made available the files of his
administration and who generously answered myriad questions and sug-
gested names of those who could supply additional material. I am also
grateful to all the deans, department chairpersons, faculty, and adminis-
trators who painstakingly read the sections pertinent to their areas and
offered suggestions and revisions. Finally, I would like to thank Frances
Slowe and Margaret Kearney for their editorial assistance.
Introduction xi
part ONE: IN THE BEGINNING
I. Yesterday 3
II. Presidential Selection and Inauguration 19
III. A New President: Goals, Strategies, and Structures 32
IV. Background for Expansion 51
V. Diamond Anniversary Development Program 70
part two: ACADEMIC EXPANSION
VI. Founding and Development of University College 95
VII. Addition of Four Basic Colleges 104
VIII. Expansion of the Four Original Basic Colleges and Lincoln
Institute 134
IX. Graduate Education 184
X. Research 220
XI. Continuing Education 241
XII. Allied Health Programs 262
XIII. University Libraries, Learning Resources, and Computation
Center 272
Vlll CONTENTS
part THREE: EDUCATIONAL METHODOLOGY
XIV. Cooperative Plan of Education 297
part FOUR: A CHANGING CONSTITUENCY
XV. A Changing Student Population 337
XVI. Changing Academic and Student Support Services
XVII. Student Conflict 384
XVIII. A Changing Faculty 428
XIX. Northeasterns Corporation and Board of Trustees
XX. Administration and Control 480
XXI. Physical Development: Fulfillment of the Diamond
Anniversary' Development Program 510
part five: TOWARD THE FUTURE
XXII. A Glance Backward, A Look Ahead 549
Endnotes 567
Appendices 603
Index 000
360
466
NORTHEASTERN
UNIVERSITY
AN EMERGING GIANT: 1 959- 1975
The first classes in what was to become Northeastern University began
on October 3, 1898, with a handful of students in the attic of the Boston
YMCA, situated on the corner of Boylston and Berkeley Streets.
Seventy-seven years later, as an accredited degree-granting institution,
Northeastern was the largest private university in the United States in
terms of enrollment, with ten undergraduate colleges, ten graduate
schools, approximately fifty acres of its own on Huntington Avenue,
four suburban campuses, an extensive research division, and assets of
8130,000,000.
In his Origin and Development of Northeastern University i8g8—ig6o,
Everett C. Marston, Professor of English at the University, has given his
account of this remarkable growth as it occurred during the Institution's
first six decades. l His volume spans three periods. During the first period,
1898-1916, the fledgling University defined the areas of its interests, de-
veloped its first schools, determined its basic philosophy — to provide
cooperative education by day and adult education by night — and finally
became incorporated as Northeastern College of the Boston Young Men's
Christian Association. Between 1917 and 1936 the new Institution concen-
trated on upgrading its standards and enhancing its educational status.
xi
Xll INTRODUCTION
In 1922 the name was changed to Northeastern University of the Boston
YMCA, and in 1935, the same year the Institution achieved general degree-
granting power, the name was shortened to simply Northeastern Univer-
sity. At the end of this period, the University was incorporated as an
autonomous University, and a seventy-five member, independent, self-per-
petuating corporation with the right to elect its own board of trustees was
instituted as the chief governing structure. Between 1936 and 1959 the
University worked to establish its independent educational identity. Dur-
ing this time Northeastern quadrupled its enrollment, faculty, and course
offerings, built and moved onto a new campus, and increased its assets
from $750,000 to almost $30,000,000. At this point the second President,
Dr. Carl S. Ell, who had reached the age of seventy, stepped down, and
a new era began.
The current volume picks up the story where Marston's narrative
ends. My intention is to describe the history of Northeastern during its
fourth period, 1959—1975, which might be called the period of
emergence. During these sixteen years Northeastern changed from an
essentially local "technical" institution that served a predominantly
male undergraduate commuter population into a large cooperative and
adult education university with a national identity and role. This many-
sided development showed itself in the increasing catholicity of
Northeastern's student body, the enhanced status of its faculty, the
widened scope of its graduate and undergraduate programs, and the
expanded area of its research and community service commitments. My
purpose, however, is not simply to describe this change but to make
some attempt to account for it.
On July 1, 1959, Asa Smallidge Knowles came into office. He saw the
retirement of Carl S. Ell as "in some respects the end of an era."
Academic programs were well established. Plans formulated in 1934 for
the construction of a new campus had been realized with the
dedication on September 8, 1959, of a $1,500,000 Graduate Center. The
time had come to formulate new plans, to look toward new horizons.
Coincidentally, 1959 also began a new era on the national scene. The
Eisenhower years were over, and the decade opened on a wave of
optimism with the dawning of the New Frontier. The period covered in
this volume ends with the retirement of President Knowles and the
inauguration of Northeastern's fourth President, Kenneth G. Ryder.
Again, coincidentally, an era had ended on the national scene, marked
by the unprecedented resignation of the nation's President and the
emergence of a general mood of retrenchment. To note such a
INTRODUCTION X1I1
correspondence in dates, however, would be purposeless were it not
for the profound influence these national events exercised on the
growth of Northeastern.
A brief sixteen years stretched between 1959 and 1975, yet already
those years grow legendary. The temptation of any historian, of course,
is to see the immediate past as unique. In the words of Robert L.
Heilbroner:
History, as it comes into our daily lives, is charged with surprise and
shock. When we think back over the past few years what strikes us
is the suddenness of its blows, the unannounced descent of its thun-
derbolts. Wars, revolutions, uprisings have burst upon us with terrible
rapidity. Advances in science and technology have rewritten the very
terms and conditions of the human contract with no more warning
than the morning's headlines. Encompassing social and economic
changes have not only unalterably rearranged our lives, but seem to
have done so behind our backs, while we were not looking.2
Even in attempting to view the decade of the 1960s with dispassion and
perspective, the shocks and surprises of those years lend themselves to
hyperbole. To begin with, it was a time of record growth. During the
decade of the 1950s, the population had grown faster than during any
decade in recent history and had reached 180,000,000 by i960. Thanks to
the economic boom, which had begun in World War II and continued
after the conflict, the period was also one of record affluence. In ten years,
between 1950 and i960, the per capita income in the United States had
risen from $1,501 to 82,219, the highest in our history.3
Both these factors were reflected on the university scene as unpar-
alleled numbers sought admission to institutions of higher education. At
the same time, the nation was stunned by the 1957 launching of Sputnik —
an event that suggested the superiority of the Soviet Union in science —
and authorized more money for education than ever before. Overnight
the three R's became the first line of defense in an omnipresent cold war,
and the cry for trained scientists, technologists, and persons capable of
teaching at the doctoral level became a siren call to institutions of higher
learning to strike out into uncharted waters of expansion. Later in the
1960s, as the war in Vietnam escalated, assassinations jolted American
security, and dissatisfaction with the establishment grew, the demand for
relevance and the abandonment of "old ways" became the battle cry. More
and more, society turned to the universities for the solution of its moral
ills, and when the universities failed to provide all the answers, disillu-
sionment set in.
Northeastern felt the impact of all these events. At the beginning of
XIV INTRODUCTION
the period it experienced an astounding growth in numbers, departments,
and general resources. In the mid- and late- 1960s, the University responded
to the general restlessness of the students — their growing cry for a greater
voice in determining their own lives — by redesigning the student role in
the administrative structure and modifying the disciplinary code in ways
that would have been undreamt of even ten years earlier. In the 1970s,
the University responded once again — this time to the national retrench-
ment— by consolidating its gains and increasing the availability of its new
achievements rather than expanding them. Yet the effects of the national
situation on internal changes, however impressive, are but part of the
story. The future, as Heilbroner also points out, can be seen as "the ex-
pected culmination of the past." From this point of view, the emergence
of Northeastern is seen not as an eclectic response to a dynamic present,
but as the adaptation of its past to the challenge of a new day.
Five themes in particular mark the evolution of Northeastern during this
period: ( 1 ) the modification of Northeastern's administrative structure to
meet the demands of growth and the introduction of collegiality; (2) the
rise of Northeastern's Cooperative Plan of Education and adult education
to positions of national prominence; (3) the expansion of Northeastern's
commitment to community service; (4) the expansion of Northeastern's
physical plant to accommodate its growing educational service; and
(5) the redesigning of Northeastern's self-image to match its changing
reality.
In 1936 Northeastern University became incorporated with legal au-
thority vested in a self-perpetuating corporation of seventy-five men who
elected from their number a Board of Trustees, which was responsible
for the more detailed control of the University and with whom the Pres-
ident consulted in his role as chief administrator. In practice this form of
governance meant that almost all administrative responsibility was in the
hands of President Carl S. Ell, who for the next twenty-five years was to
exercise virtually total control over all aspects of University life. Such a
structure was eminently suited to the early days of the Institution when
Northeastern was essentially a family affair, but burgeoning enrollments
and the expansion of faculty and departments tested the limits of such a
highly centralized authority, and under Dr. Knowles the administrative
structure opened up. Although the general outlines of University gover-
nance remained the same — a corporation, a Board of Trustees, a Presi-
dent— decision-making powers in the realms of curricula, personnel,
budgets, and policy were increasingly given to the departments and offices
directly concerned with particular issues. The principle of collegiality was
INTRODUCTION XV
introduced, and a faculty senate came into being. The effect of this re-
organization was fourfold: (1) the status of the faculty was enhanced;
(2) the President, relieved of detail work, was free to oversee the general
coordination of the Institution; (3) new channels for new ideas became
available; and, perhaps most important, (4) the delegation of authority
allowed more room for growth and experimentation in the educational
process. In 1959 the governing pattern of Northeastern had in some ways
resembled that of a monarchy; by 1975 the governing pattern more closely
resembled that of a federal union with ultimate authority still residing in
the central office but with far more responsibility enjoyed by all members.
Further, the transformation of Northeastern's governance established a
pattern similar to that of other large institutions of higher education and
confirmed Northeastern's status as a major university.
To meet the demands for new and relevant programs and to accommodate
a new kind of student, Northeastern dramatically extended its Cooperative
Plan of Education and adult education between the years 1959 and 1975.
Cooperative education was adapted to new areas of academic endeavor —
pharmacy, nursing, physical education and physical therapy, and law and
criminal justice — and to new levels of learning as the concept of a co-
operative education doctoral program was introduced. As a result, North-
eastern gained a national reputation as a pioneer of new programs and as
a leader in the field of cooperative education. Simultaneously, the Uni-
versity improved the status of adult education by establishing a college
wholly devoted to part-time adult programs that would not repeat day
programs but that would be particularly suited to the demands of mature
working persons.
In addition, the University tapped an entirely new constituency by
developing a system of branch campuses and satellite programs. Taking a
cue from business, which was moving into the suburbs and into industrial
parks, Northeastern followed its potential constituency by offering classes
at a suburban campus in Burlington, with easy access to Route 128, by
opening centers in Weston, Ashland, and Nahant, and by instituting other
programs at convenient times and at convenient locations in rented facili-
ties north and west of Boston. Credit and noncredit courses thus became
easily available both to businesspeople who felt the need to update their
skills through state-of-the-art courses and to housewives who were consid-
ering reentry into the job market or who simply wished to continue their
education. It is significant that Northeastern catered to this latter group by
offering courses at hours when children would be at school, even before
the first impact of the Women's Liberation Movement was felt.
XVI INTRODUCTION
Between 1959 and 1975 society increasingly turned to the universities to
provide solutions to problems of social welfare. Northeastern responded
by increasing its services to the community, not only on the local and
regional level but also on the national level. The proliferation of seminars,
workshops, custom-designed courses for specific companies and groups
of professionals offered through Northeastern's Center for Continuing Ed-
ucation, was one hallmark of the University's commitment to community
needs during those years. However, its role did not end with academic
offerings. Increasingly the University made available its resources and
facilities to various interest groups concerned with urban, regional, and
national welfare. Always conscious of its role as a large metropolitan
university, it cooperated with urban planners on the development of the
city and with Roxbury leaders on the development of the black com-
munity; it cooperated with the secondary schools on the enhancement of
high school programs and with the elementary schools on the develop-
ment of reading, recreation, and Head Start programs. Its commitment to
the national community also expanded with the development of nationally
funded research programs and with the encouragement given to its fa-
culties and departments to participate in programs of national interest.
Several times during these years representatives of Northeastern appeared
before the U.S. Congress in the support of bills dealing with educational
questions of national scope, and more and more faculty and staff members
took time from their busy schedules to play an active role in national
organizations devoted to their particular field of study. Not surprisingly,
Northeastern's administration also played a large part in the founding and
establishment of the National Commission for Cooperative Education.
Between 1959 and 1975 Northeastern experienced dramatic physical de-
velopment. At the opening of the period, the University owned eighteen
acres on Huntington Avenue, eleven buildings, four residences, and an
athletic field in Brookline, for a total plant worth $15,400,000. At the end
of the period, Northeastern owned approximately fifty acres on Hunting-
ton Avenue, Parsons athletic field in Brookline, and four branch campuses
in Weston, Burlington, Ashland, and Nahant. The University had con-
structed nine new academic buildings and three new dormitories and had
done extensive remodeling in existing facilities. Total plant worth rose
to $70,000,000 (cost basis).4
Threaded throughout these years and paralleling its growth was North-
eastern's changing image. Even in the late 1950s, as Rudolph Morris has
so aptly remarked in his reminiscence, Where? On Huntington Avenue,
INTRODUCTION XV11
very few but those who actually went to the University had any idea where
Northeastern was, although legend has it that a favorite subway expression
was, "If he carries a slide rule, he probably goes to Northeastern." By 1975
this image of Northeastern as a "technical" or "engineering" school had
changed to that of a large cooperative and adult education university, one
of the country's foremost professional universities, and no one had to ask
where it was. Partially this change was the natural result of the University's
expansion during this period, but to some extent it was also the result of
a self-conscious effort to establish the University's identity as the first-rate
institution it was becoming.
The story of Northeastern's rise to a position of national prominence
cannot be told without paying some attention to the effort that went into
making itself known. Sheer growth demanded plans for new buildings, but
it was a mark of the University's new confidence and self-esteem that these
plans were announced through a dramatic Diamond Anniversary Devel-
opment Program, which focused national attention on 360 Huntington
Avenue. As never before in its history, the University worked to project
its growing self-awareness onto the national awareness — courting, cos-
seting, and cultivating its alumni to spread the word of their alma mater
and encouraging the faculty to participate in roles of national responsibility.
These, then, are the five major themes that marked the University's evo-
lution during this period and that conditioned the selection of material
for this book. In bringing Northeastern to the threshold of the present, I
have also touched on certain other areas — athletics, social events, and
cultural concerns — which seemed to me essential to presenting the total
picture of a large and complex university in the process of growth. Yet,
inevitably, details of Northeastern's development that some reader con-
siders important will have been left out, while other events that another
reader considers trivial will have been included.
It has been my aim to show how one American university — and in
its commitment to the work ethic, to community service, to a large and
diverse constituency Northeastern is very American — adapted its past and
came to realize its future during a particularly volatile time in our nation's
history. To the extent that, in spite of inevitable shortcomings, this overall
theme is communicated, the story will have been successfully told.
PART ONE
IN THE
BEGINNING
Prior to World War I, and indeed through most of the 1920s, higher
education connoted to most Americans who thought about it at all the
kind of choice that F. Scott Fitzgerald's hero made in the short story
"Winter Dreams'' "Winter Dreams . . . persuaded Dexter ... to pass
up a business course at the State university . . . for the more
precarious advantage of attending an older, more famous university in
the East."1
The world of fiction tended to divide higher education into two
categories. On the one hand, there were the leaf-lined residential
campuses of the eastern seaboard where, according to Fitzgerald,
"mildly poetic gentlemen (seated in preceptorial smoking rooms)
resented any warmth of discussion and called prominent men of their
class by their first name"; or, as in such popular novels as Brown of
Harvard and Stover at Yale, undergraduates wore beanies and blazers,
were high spirited and bibulous but retained their honor on the playing
fields. On the other hand, there was the state university where the
undergraduate "was fond of science and literature, was unusually adept
at Latin and Greek, and had a passion for mathematics. He was
graduated with honors . . . but the pioneer spirit in his blood would
still out, and his polite learning he then threw to the winds." As the
4 IN THE BEGINNING
next step he then worked: "It was not that the ideals of his college days
were tarnished, but he was a man of business now."2
In the real world, however, there existed other very important
purveyors of higher education such as church-affiliated colleges, small
independent colleges and schools, and educational branches of the
Young Men's Christian Association. Although less romantic than their
fictional counterparts, these institutions provided a substantial portion
of young Americans with their only opportunity to acquire a meaningful
education beyond the secondary level.3 One of the least romantic but
most promising of these alternatives was the "Evening Institute for Young
Men" of the Boston YMCA, which in 1898 instituted an Evening Law School
that was destined to become the seed of Northeastern University.
No novelist, of course, ever wrote a Brown of Northeastern.
Furthermore, it is doubtful that if such a book had been written, any of
the turn-of-the-century students, squeezing onto the nation's first
electric trolleys at Park Street to attend evening classes in the red brick
YMCA, would have appreciated seeing himself depicted in such
glamorous terms. The majority were already "men of business now" —
at least they worked during the day and, on the advice of the Institute's
young director, Frank Palmer Speare, almost never smoked or drank.
Speare constantly warned "that a brain fuddled with rum or cigarettes
is like a ten-pound shot tied to your leg." They had no campus, leaf-
lined or otherwise, no football teams, no national fraternities — those
staples of popular literature — nor were their courses necessarily on the
level of sophistication implied by the novelists.4
Although Northeastern students might take a degree program in
the School of Law (founded in 1898 and given degree-granting power in
1904), or the School of Commerce and Finance (founded in 1907 and
given degree-granting power in 1910), or the School of Engineering
(founded in 1909 and given degree-granting power in 1920), they might
just as easily have learned how to buy a car, drive it, or fix it at the
Automobile School (founded in 1903 and disbanded in 1926), how to
do shop work at the Polytechnic School (founded in 1904 and
developed into the Lincoln Institute in 1927), or simplest of all, how to
master the rudiments of elementary algebra at the General Evening
Preparatory School (founded in 1904) or the Association Day School
(founded in 1909). Even if this was not the stuff of literature, it was —
though unbeknownst to the participants at the time — the stuff of
history. Those unsung trolley commuters were, in fact, taking part in an
educational experiment that would far outlast the best sellers that
Yesterday 5
ignored them and alter the course of higher education throughout the
twentieth century.
Everett Marston's excellent history, Origin and Development of
Northeastern 1898-1960, provides a detailed account of the evolution
of the Boston Evening Institute experiment into the nationally
prominent Northeastern University; it is not my intent to repeat those
details here. Professor Marston's focus is on the men and machinery
that operated to effect this development, and the reader interested in
an examination of such a phenomenon should certainly consult this
excellent source. My own intention, in this chapter, is far less
ambitious; it is simply to identify in their nascent form some of the
ideas that went into the educational experiment that was Northeastern
and thus to set the stage for the story of their eventual fulfillment.
Fundamental to this experiment was the idea that an educational
institution not only could but also should be responsive to the demands
of the local community. Today, when it is taken for granted that universities
must assume social responsibility, this notion does not seem so strange.
In 1898, when the Evening Division of the Boston YMCA established its
evening School of Law to accommodate young men who could not be
served by traditional schools, social responsibility seemed a maverick
educational idea.
Until the Civil War, most American educators had assumed that the
function of higher education was to educate ministers and the ruling elite.
Universities were thus largely cast in the mold of their European coun-
terparts. After the Civil War, as the country became increasingly business
and industry-oriented, attempts were made to direct American higher
education away from the classical European elitist model and into a form
that "would give those whose lives were to be devoted to agriculture or
the mechanic arts, or other industries, embracing much of the largest part
of our population, some chance to obtain a liberal, practical education."5
The fruit of this effort was the establishment of land-grant colleges that
were created under stipulations of the first Morrill Act of 1862.
The aim of these institutions was to introduce a largely rural popu-
lation to the intricacies of business and technology. Thus land-grant col-
leges could not always satisfy the needs of an urban working-class
population; frequently these colleges were inaccessible in terms of their
location and even more often inaccessible in terms of their educational
6 IN THE BEGINNING
requirements. It was at this point that institutions like the Young Men's
Christian Association stepped in to fill the gap.
In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries Boston under-
went an intense period of growth. Between 1880 and 1890 the population
catapulted from 362,839 to almost 500,000. By 1900 another 100,000 had
been added, and by 1920 almost 750,000 people lived in Boston.6 This
growth in population was accompanied by a corollary growth in com-
mercial and industrial enterprises, and persons trained in the most rudi-
mentary skills were in high demand. There was no state university in
eastern Massachusetts, however, and the already-established educational
institutions, namely Harvard, MIT (begun as a land-grant college), and
Boston University, would not have been able to serve the needs of these
emerging industries even if they had lowered their standards and their
tuition requirements.
The directors of the Boston Young Men's Christian Association per-
ceived this need and in 1896 formed the "Evening Institute for Young
Men" to coordinate and organize the classes that had grown up in the four
decades of the Association's existence. The new Institute, promising "a
good education possible for every young man," would provide systematic
part-time and supplementary programs to help young men prepare for
positions other than that of hod carrier in the growing businesses of the
city.7
The entire idea was fiercely American, combining as it did a complex
mixture of motives — high idealism (education for all) and practical busi-
ness sense (satisfying local manpower needs). Appropriately enough, the
Institute's first director, Frank Palmer Speare, was even a linear descendant
of Richard Warner of the Mayflower.8 How much this fact actually influ-
enced the character of Director Speare is highly speculative. Nevertheless,
he did embody many of the qualities generally attributed to our forebears.
By the time Frank Speare was President of Northeastern, Trentwell M.
White in an article published in 1929 describes him as a man of "vision,
confidence, and energy" and above all a hard worker. President Speare's
own words, however, are even more indicative of his Puritan inclinations.
He was fond of inventing maxims, such as "No real progress is possible
until one's course in life is decided upon and properly charted"; "the
world is suffering for competent people. It is the 'misfits' and 'underdone'
who are on the bargain counter' "; "tell me what you do with your leisure
and I will tell you what you are to be."9
With such a righteous Director it is not surprising that within two
years of its founding the Evening Institute flourished to such an extent
that other YMCA associations chose to emulate it. Frank Palmer Speare,
Yesterday 7
however, was not one to spend his own leisure in idle contemplation of
past triumphs, and in 1898, prompted by the success of the Institute —
particularly of a law program that had been sponsored by the Lowell
Institute in 1897 — he prevailed on the Directors of the Evening Institute
of the Boston YMCA to establish an Evening School of Law. Thus the first
school of what was to become Northeastern University opened on October
3, 1898. The ensuing success of that program affirmed the conviction that
indeed there was a place for education designed in direct response to
community need, and for the next sixty years Northeastern seldom de-
viated from this conviction in the initiation of its programs.
Closely linked with the unconventional notion that the function of
higher education was to serve the community was the Institute's, and
subsequently Northeastern's, willingness to try the untried. Unfettered by
tradition, Director Speare and his associates were uniquely free to exper-
iment, and experiment they did. Although a proposed class in Knots and
Splices designed for novice sailors was never given, it represented one
extreme of that willingness. More significant examples of experimentation,
however, were the following: the Automobile School, the first of its kind
in the nation; the Evening School of Commerce, the first collegiate insti-
tution in the country devoted to the part-time study of business admin-
istration leading to a degree; and an evening college or College of Liberal
Arts, which proved to be so much ahead of its time that it languished soon
after its inception.
A greater challenge to traditional education, however, came not from
individual courses but from the very premises on which these courses
were built — the provision of terminal degree-granting evening programs
for adults and cooperative day programs for younger students. Giving
emphasis to and delineating the uniqueness of these programs was North-
eastern's atypical organizational structure, which consisted of two basically
autonomous divisions: an Evening Division, under the direction of a dean,
which provided all of the adult, part-time, after-six programs; and a Day
Division, under the direction of a vice-president, which conducted all of
the day, full-time cooperative programs. Both of these divisions emerged
quite naturally in the evolution of the Institution.
At the very core of the Institute had been the belief in adult evening
education. Scorning the notion that evening courses should be simply
incidental or supplementary, Director Speare and his associates pioneered
programs that would impart fundamental skills in a structured format to
their students, many of whom were already employed in areas that the
programs encompassed. Thus in addition to the schools already men-
tioned, there was also a School of Advertising and a School of Applied
8 IN THE BEGINNING
Electricity and Steam Engineering, both of which were founded in the first
decade of the century and both of which were designed for mature stu-
dents interested in moving up in these new industries. Neither of these
schools was long-lived; nevertheless, they clearly demonstrated a com-
mitment to innovative and useful programs for adults. It was a commitment
that would continue as the young Institute grew, became a college, and
finally a university — a commitment that would eventually provide the
precedent for the state-of-the-art courses and specialized programs for
mature students that flourished in the 1960s and 1970s.
The second and even more radical educational idea was that of con-
ducting day programs on the Cooperative Plan of Education. The idea was
not original with the Institute. The first Cooperative Plan of Education had
been introduced in the United States in 1906 at the Engineering School
of the University of Cincinnati by Dean Herman Schneider of that Insti-
tution. Dean Schneider's plan called for alternating regular periods of
college class work with paid periods of relevant and supervised work in
industry. Such a plan was startling to educators who conceived of higher
education as a four-year stretch of uninterrupted study. The basic premise
of the plan was twofold: ( 1 ) practical work experience would enhance
and make theoretical studies more meaningful and (2) the opportunity to
earn while learning would make higher education more accessible. Al-
though, in retrospect, the validity of such an idea seems self-evident —
indeed on the threshold of the 1980s the incorporation of work experience
as part of a degree is considered by many as the central issue in the future
of American higher education, particularly professional education — this
was not the case in 1906, nor was it the case in 1909.
Like so many incidents that are destined to reshape history, the in-
troduction of the Cooperative Plan of Education at Northeastern came
about somewhat casually. In 1917 Hercules W. Geromanos (Dean of the
Evening Polytechnic in 1909 and Dean of the Cooperative School of En-
gineering from 1910 to 1917) described that beginning:
In the spring of 1909 I was appointed Dean of the Evening Polytechnic
School of the Department of Education of the Association and, as part
of my duties, was also to take charge of all the technical courses
offered in the day, the first of which were to be started in the fall of
that year.
Before the opening of the school in September, the prospectus
of a proposed part-time engineering school, about to be started by a
mid-western Association, came to my attention, and gave the starting
impetus to the idea which since had developed into the Co-operative
School of Engineering of Northeastern College.10
Yesterday 9
It would be difficult to overestimate the impact that the Cooperative
Plan had upon Northeastern, for it was in this method of education that
the Institution found the perfect expression of its promise of "a good
education possible to every young man." The system of alternating work
and study made the chance to pursue a college education possible for
many who could not otherwise afford it, while the opportunity to test
theoretical knowledge in practical work experience opened the way both
to a better understanding of that theoretical knowledge and to a truer
appreciation of the complexity and potential of everyday tasks.
Although the engineering program began slowly — eight students, four
cooperating industries — it quickly gathered momentum. In 1917 Mr. Ger-
omanos retired, and Carl S. Ell, who had been his assistant, succeeded him
as Dean of the Engineering School. Like his predecessor, Dr. Ell was totally
committed to the concept of "co-op." Dr. Ell's commitment is evident in
the record of his first year in which he almost doubled the size of the
cooperative student body from 160 to 235 and the number of cooperating
industries from 27 to 42. ! '
By 1919 the popularity of cooperative education had grown to such
a degree that it became necessary to appoint a Director of Engineering
Practice. The first man to hold this position was Philip C. Nash, who had
previously been a practicing engineer with the Boston Transit Company.
He was subsequently recruited by President Arthur Morgan of Antioch,
and in 1921 moved to that Institution where he was instrumental in helping
Morgan apply the principle to liberal arts, thereby initiating the now
famous "Antioch Plan."
Meanwhile, Mr. Nash's brother-in-law, Winthrop E. Nightingale, be-
came Director of the Northeastern Program. Under his aegis the College
of Business Administration (founded in 1922) became cooperative in 1924,
the College of Liberal Arts was founded on the Cooperative Plan in 1935,
and the College of Education became the fourth college of Northeastern
to conform to this pattern in 1953.
But this is to get ahead of our story. In 1916 the degree to which both
of these ideas — terminal adult evening programs and cooperative day
programs — threatened the establishment became clear when the Evening
Institute applied to the state legislature for college status to be accorded
certain of its schools. Following an investigation in 1914 by George H.
Martin, former Secretary of the State Board of Education, it was determined
that "all the technical and professional schools were of college or graduate
grade." Nevertheless, a howl of indignation went up from the more con-
servative elements of Boston education. "They naturally felt," said Presi-
dent Speare later with commendable understanding, "that we were
10 IN THE BEGINNING
treading upon hallowed ground and might in some mysterious way injure
the standards of existing institutions."12
President Speare, however, could afford to be understanding. Despite
the protest, on March 30, 1916, the Secretary of the Commonwealth of
Massachusetts signed into law a bill authorizing the incorporation of North-
eastern College of the Boston YMCA. Henceforth that name would be
applied legally to the Institute's degree-granting schools, the Evening
School of Law, and the School of Commerce and Finance. It was also
applied to the college-level programs of the Cooperative Engineering
School, the Polytechnic School, and a new and short-lived Evening School
of Liberal Arts. In addition to this triumph, there was the evident success
of the Institute. By 1916 the aforementioned programs, together with the
Institute's less sophisticated courses, including those offered through the
Automobile School and the Association Day School, were enrolling 3,620
students as opposed to an initial enrollment of 418; the number of teachers
had risen from 12 to 214; the number of courses from 20 to 336; and the
budget from $2,800 to $185,418. 13
That Northeastern was inventive and willing to try the untried was clear
from the beginning. Its extraordinary responsiveness to community needs,
its adherence to the principles of adult education by night and cooperative
education by day, and its innovative programs had all been experiments,
but perhaps its greatest experiment was in the kind of student it was
willing to educate.
A stereotypical college man, as indicated in the introduction to this
chapter, was a middle- to upper-middle-class boy who could not only
afford high tuition but also years of preparation at the secondary level.
Even state university students could afford four years of time off from the
problems of earning a living. Northeastern, however, welcomed and in-
deed prided itself on providing opportunities for those who either because
of poor preparation, financial distress, or even age could not find access
to more traditional establishments. As Dr. Speare stated in 1916, "We stand
ready and willing to admit you regardless of what you have done here-
tofore, and to modify our courses, adjust our hours and meet your needs,
that if you are willing to sacrifice for the achievement of your educational
ideal, will devote the time, energy and money necessary for obtaining a
higher education, we are at your service."14
But if admission standards were less than rigid, this did not necessarily
mean that academic standards were below par. "Northeastern is easy to
get into but hard to get out of" went the aphorism until the late 1950s
when the rising tide of enrollment allowed for more selectivity in admis-
Yesterday 1 1
sion policies. Even then, however, the basic principle of providing edu-
cational opportunities to those who might not otherwise have them
remained intact, a continuing challenge to the innovation and imagination
of Northeastern's administrators.
In 1917 Frank Palmer Speare, in his "Annual Report of the President
of Northeastern College and Its Affiliated Schools 1916-1917," furnished
the basic text for the bustling energies of Northeastern: "The line of
cleavage between Northeastern and the traditional college is distinct and
definite. . . . Northeastern will never be orthodox. . . . On the other
hand, it will not be radical, reactionary or unsafe. It will make no claims
which it cannot substantiate, it will hold out no false inducements to
faculty or students, but will seek to give every eager boy and man an
opportunity to appreciate and obtain the best things in life."15
A willingness to be nontraditional dictated Northeastern's education
policies, its selection of students, and its mode of presentation. Good,
hard, traditional business sense, however, dictated its method of operation.
Established as it was with no endowment, appealing to students with
little wherewithal, and unaffiliated with an institution or individual on
whose philanthropy it could depend in moments of crisis, Northeastern
was forced from the beginning to depend on its own adaptability and
business acumen for its survival. No two persons could have been more
aware of these circumstances than the Institution's first two presidents.
Frank Palmer Speare, the Evening Institute's Director (1896—1916)
and Northeastern's first President ( 1916-1940) was an educator by profes-
sion, but he was also a man of business. During the 1920s he was often
invited to appear before business groups as a "Public Speaker on Practical
Subjects," and was praised by his peers as one "able to get down to the
brass tacks in education."16 That he was able to start the University on
almost nothing, sustain it through World War I, and then bring it through
a major depression suggests that his peers were not speaking lightly in
their praise of his accomplishments.
Northeastern's second President, Carl S. Ell (1940—1959), was by
profession an engineer. He had come to the Institute in 1910 as an in-
structor in that field but stayed on for almost fifty years to engineer the
University into a firm and enduring foundation. He possessed, to continue
the analogy, an unerring eye for the nuts and bolts of a given situation
and a genius for assuring that they would be put in the right place at the
right time. The development of the campus on Huntington Avenue and
12 IN THE BEGINNING
the growth of the colleges and enrollment stand as unerring testaments
to this truth.
For both these men, the cornerstone of good business was hard work.
They demanded it of themselves and of their colleagues. Early in his
presidency Dr. Speare declared that "the person who works with one eye
on the payroll and the other on the clock is slated for the scrap-heap,"
and this philosophy permeated the outlook of staff and students. The first
issue of Northeastern Tech bears the warning: "The school is run by the
corridor clock (above the bulletin board) and Prof. Pugsley's watch. Take
due notice." This was not an injunction to watch the clock but to get to
work on time, and the evidence is that those who stayed did exactly that.
In June 1959, on the eve of his retirement, Dr. Ell spoke of the men who
had served him on the Executive Council and announced that he had
hunted for men who had a willingness to work days, nights, and
holidays, and with no greater allegiance to anything except to family.
Such men were found in Everett A. Churchill, William C. White,
Milton J. Schlagenhauf, Edward S. Parsons, Lincoln C. Bateson, and
Albert E. Everett, all of whom are now fifty to sixty years of age, all
have been twenty -four hour men seven days a week, 365 days a year,
who have thought Northeastern, slept Northeastern, dreamed North-
eastern, and have made great plans for Northeastern and who with
the help of the Executive Committee, Trustees, and Corporation have
put together $30,000,000 in assets for Northeastern.17
If hard work was one requisite of good business, the ability to make
that work pay was another. In lieu of endowment or affiliation with an
external organization that might be expected to pick up the tab in ex-
change for conformity to a particular ideology, the administration substi-
tuted a simple pragmatism. A program, an administrative structure, or an
educational policy that worked and that attracted students, was retained;
one that did not was dropped. Thus, for example, all of the following were
disbanded: The Automobile School in 1926, the schools of Advertising and
Steam Fitting in the teens, the first College of Liberal Arts in the mid- 1920s,
and the School of Law in 1953. In each instance, flagging enrollments in
relation to cost determined the final decision to close. Nowhere was
adherence to this policy more poignantly felt than in the closing of the
Law School, the first school of Northeastern. Although Dr. Ell phrased the
reasons for this action with gentlemanly tact, pointing out that the school
no longer served a function that could not be equally well met by other
schools in the area,18 the hard fact was that a drop in enrollment no longer
made the program financially feasible.
An appreciation of good business principles also shaped the history
Yesterday 13
of Northeastern's separation from its YMCA parent, which was accom-
plished in 1936, five years after an outside consulting firm declared that
the University would have
difficulty in attracting to the University Board men of influence and
vision, outside of the Y.M.C.A. Directors, while such men have no
actual control . . . of the University's management policies |and that)
without an autonomous Board there would be difficulty in in-
teresting large givers, particularly the Foundations and higher edu-
cation "philanthropists" of the country. Persons of large means might
properly hesitate to give to an institution whose control lies with
another organization founded primarily for other than educational
purposes.19
These same business principles dictated the form of Northeastern's inter-
nal organization, which was highly centralized at a time when financial
solvency demanded unanimity and total coordination of all aspects of the
University.
Nowhere, however, was the sense of the dollar more evident than in
the physical development of Northeastern. As the decade of the Depression
opened, Northeastern had one building (the South Building, now called
Botolph), which the YMCA gave to the University in 1930. It had an athletic
field in Brookline, three acres of land on Huntington Avenue, acquired
also through the generosity of the Association, and almost no assets. A
decade later in 1940 the Institution had, in addition to its previous holdings,
one totally new structure (West Hall, later renamed Richards Hall), one
building under construction, and $2,500,000 in assets. In 1959 Northeastern
boasted eleven structures, approximately 14.5 acres of land on Huntington
Avenue, and total assets estimated at almost $30,ooo,ooo.20 In the jargon
of outsiders, "a miracle had occurred on Huntington Avenue." And indeed
it had, but it was an event that might be better attributed to shrewd
economic sense than to any celestial intervention.
Finally and inevitably — for flexibility is a part of pragmaticism —
Northeastern was flexible, but it was also determined. During its first sixty
years, the University confronted five potentially catastrophic events —
World War I, the Great Depression, World War II, the postwar boom, and
the launching of Sputnik. In each instance the Institution not only rode
out the storm but also modified its design in such a way as to emerge
from the conflict stronger than before.
World War I, the Depression, and World War II threatened to deplete
the enrollment, and hence revenue, to the vanishing point. Dr. Speare in
his "Report of the President of Northeastern College for the Year 1918—19"
addressed the problem of decreasing enrollment and revenue and also
14 IN THE BEGINNING
stated the attitude that Northeastern was to maintain consistently in the
future: "At the outbreak of the War the Trustees went on record to the
effect that the standards of the school must not be allowed to suffer, and
that we must plan to emerge from the hostilities with our organization
intact." Specifically these plans meant that the Institution added to its
programs "courses bearing upon the national needs," and in addition to
accelerating its work and increasing its general efficiency, "a number of
special war courses were established and maintained."21
Adjustments made during the war included the following: the ad-
mission of three hundred women from the Boston YMCA who attended
courses in the Automobile School to perfect skills that would allow them
to qualify for a needed public service; the introduction of a Student Army
Training Corps (SATC) program that took over the Cooperative College
of Engineering from 1917 to 1918; and the establishment of a branch of
Northeastern in Worcester, Massachusetts. All of these programs brought
education to an entirely new constituency; they also brought an entirely
new constituency to Northeastern and stemmed the attrition caused by
the draft.
It was during this war period that President Speare boldly declared
that "if the business shrinks in any particular school, the expenses of that
school will be cut accordingly or the faculty in some way will raise suf-
ficient revenue through their personal efforts to meet the situation. Should
one school suffer somewhat and another school not, an effort will be made
to share the difficulties and to strike a balance between them."22
Through such effort, Northeastern not only survived the war but also
demonstrated that it was willing and able to change when such change
could be justified in both educational and practical terms.
After 1918 when needs shifted, many of the war innovations were
dropped for the same practical and educational reasons that programs had
been dropped earlier, although the idea of treating the University as a
balance of units was retained to become a permanent part of Northeast-
ern's administrative policy.23 Of the programs that were disbanded, many
would later resurface in new forms. Thus SATC can be seen as a forerunner
of ROTC, which was established in 195 1; and the admission of the YMCA
women can be viewed as a precedent for the introduction of coeducation,
which became a permanent feature of the University in 1943. The 1917
Worcester branch campus continued into the 1920s, and in 1919 and 1920
other branches were set up in Providence, New Haven, Bridgeport, and
Springfield. In the 1930s when the decision was made to focus attention
on the Boston campus, these associations were dissolved. From their dis-
solution, however, emerged five present-day institutions: Worcester Junior
Yesterday 15
College, Roger Williams Junior College in Providence, New Haven College,
Bridgeport Engineering Institute, and Western New England College in
Springfield. More important, the idea of branch campuses, when conditions
warranted, became a part of Northeastern's tradition.
The threat posed by the Depression was, if possible, even more serious
than that posed by World War I. During the war there had been some
cutbacks in the Cooperative Plan of Education, largely caused by a need
to accelerate courses and by the attrition of students eligible for "Co-op"
assignments. In the 1930s this situation was reversed: now there were a
disproportionate number of students in relation to available jobs. At its
lowest point cooperative employment had sunk to 42 percent of the stu-
dents enrolled.24 Pressure to abandon the program was heavy, but perhaps
no better example exists of the University's determination, flexibility, and
commitment to hard work than the steps it took to retain this educational
system. Reluctant to give up cooperative education, the administration
left the basic policy unaltered but modified the job requirements of the
program.
Traditionally the cooperative students had alternated semesters of
relevant work with study. Now they were offered several options. They
could remain in college for continuous semesters until a job opened up,
during which time they would be allowed to take noncredit but never-
theless free enrichment courses in liberal arts taught by Northeastern
faculty as an overload and for no extra compensation. They might take a
temporary job even if it did not extend for a full semester, or they might
take a job that had no perceivable correlation with their fields of study
but which did at least fulfill the requirement of practical work as part of
the undergraduate experience. In the meantime, members of the Depart-
ment of Cooperative Work continued to visit companies even though no
positions were available, thereby maintaining a continuity of relationships
with the business-industry community and establishing an important func-
tion of the Department.
The third crisis, World War II, confronted the University with some
of the same problems mentioned above — the by now familiar threats of
severe attrition and the potential collapse of the Cooperative Plan of
Education. The University responded to the first threat much as it had in
1917, by introducing new programs that would bring in new students. In
!939 Northeastern opened a Civilian War Training Program that would
allow reserve groups of the army, navy, and marines to complete their
college education before going on to active service. In 1943, with the
authorization of the War Department, it initiated an Army Specialized
Training Program; and between 1940 and 1945 it offered an Engineering
l6 IN THE BEGINNING
Science Management War Training Program (ESMWT), which was given
free at government expense as a wartime service to prepare people for
business and to upgrade the skills of those already in business.
Of all the programs, ESMWT was to prove the most significant, for
it opened the way for the Bureau of Business and Industrial Training of
Northeastern's Evening Division, established in 1954, and subsequently
provided the model for its Department of Continuing Education. Also
during this period, Northeastern altered its admission policy: In 1943 the
administration decided that from henceforth women would be admitted
to the basic day colleges.25
With students going off to war, the feasibility of continuing the Co-
operative Plan of Education again became an issue, but once more the
University proved itself capable of adapting without fundamentally altering
this basic commitment. Although the administration was forced to abandon
many of its cooperative programs in the interest of acceleration, it made
clear that this was an expedient and temporary move. The Department
of Cooperative Work continued in operation much as it had during the
Depression and, when the war crisis passed, the Cooperative Plan of Ed-
ucation was promptly reinstated in full force.
Although two wars and a depression might seem at a cursory glance
the most traumatic experience a young and struggling Institution would
have to face, the postwar boom was in some respects an even more severe
test of Northeastern's ability to adjust to external pressure. The sudden
influx of veterans not only threatened to inundate the limited facilities of
the Institution, but also created a need for different programs more suitable
to the demands of the postwar world.
Resisting the temptation to educate as many as possible as quickly as
possible, and adhering staunchly to the principle of cooperative education
by day, the University added only those day programs that were suitable
to the Plan. Thus in 1953 the College of Education became the fourth
college of Northeastern. Its undergraduate curriculum made use of a new
Teacher Internship Plan designed to prepare teachers for public, elemen-
tary, and secondary school positions. At the same time the administration
authorized expansion of the Evening Division to include students who
could not be accommodated in the Cooperative Day Division.
In 1945, the Evening School of Business embarked on a restructuring
process that saw the subsequent development of eighteen professional
programs leading to a degree of Bachelor of Business Administration. The
Lincoln Institute, originally established in 1927 to carry on the technical
Yesterday 17
offerings of the Evening Polytechnic School, was upgraded and modernized
to provide associate degree programs with specialization in specific fields.
The Evening College of Liberal Arts was expanded to include a Bachelor
of Arts degree program in addition to the Associate in Arts programs that
had been available since 1940.
Nor was adaptation confined to undergraduate studies. To increase
junior faculty without substantial cost, a small graduate program was in-
troduced in the departments of Chemistry and Physics at the tail end of
the Depression. Teaching fellows monitored undergraduate laboratories
and taught introductory courses in return for the chance to do their own
graduate work. (The first master's degrees were awarded in 1942.) With
the emerging importance of advanced courses as a method of training
persons for the highly specialized jobs that were becoming increasingly
prevalent in the wake of World War II, Northeastern expanded its graduate
offerings. In 1948 the Evening College of Engineering added six master's
level, although not degree-granting, programs. In the 1950s the Day College
of Engineering introduced three curricula leading to the Master of Science
degree. In 1951 the Evening School of Business began providing the Master
of Business Administration, and in 1953 when the College of Education
was founded, its offerings included programs leading to the Master of
Education degree.
Closely correlated with the growth in graduate programs was a growth
in research. Between 1940 and 1959 the research budget expanded from
almost nothing to approximately $350,000. The addition of graduate work
and research to a primarily undergraduate institution represented a perfect
marriage between Northeastern's educational commitments and its busi-
ness acumen, for these programs were to be countenanced, said Dr. Ell,
only to the extent that they "increase the efficiency and effectiveness of
the teaching process."26
On October 3, 1957, a fifth "cataclysmic event" literally flashed across the
night sky. The Soviet Union had launched Sputnik, the first successful
space satellite, and almost overnight the nation found itself caught up in
a technology race that was to dictate much of the shape of higher education
for the next two decades. This race, however, was not to be Dr. Ell's
concern.
On June 26, 1959, the retiring President, in an eloquent farewell
address to the Board of Trustees, noted that "Northeastern grew out of
an idea." It was an idea to which sixty years of history had given a "local
l8 IN THE BEGINNING
habitation and a name" and, more important, a rich legacy of values. In
later days the administration, faced with hard decisions, could look to
these values confident that they would provide support to the University
in its efforts to "grow and flourish, spread beyond its original bounds and
serve mankind well when it comes to the season of fulfillment."2"
"The season of fulfillment," however, was to be in the guardianship
of new hands. Four days later Northeastern's third President, Asa Smallidge
Knowles, assumed office, and the University faced a rapidly changing world
under a new administration.
II
Presidential Selection and
Inauguration
In January 1958 Carl S. Ell, having reached the age of seventy,
announced to the University that he would retire as of June 30, 1959.
The announcement was not unexpected. Five years earlier on the
occasion of his sixty-fifth birthday, the issue of retirement had surfaced
and had been quickly tabled. That Dr. Ell would have to leave
sometime, however, was understood. That he would do so when he felt
the time was appropriate and the reins securely transferred to other
hands was equally taken for granted. In his announcement he assured
the community that he was making his statement early "so that the
Board of Trustees and myself can be sure we have the right new
president of this Institution before the present one steps out."1 Those
who knew Dr. Ell well, however, knew that the choice had already
been made, and by the President himself.
The notion of selecting a major university official by fiat of the
incumbent may unsettle some readers who take for granted the
contemporary practice of large search committees sifting hundreds of
applications and who assume that the problem of succession involves
all university members at every level. That, however, was not the
situation at Northeastern in 1958. If a ripple of concern stirred the
University community that brisk January morning, it was only because
19
20 IN THE BEGINNING
Dr. Ell was leaving, not because anyone worried over who would come
next. The President, whose devotion to Northeastern was so well
known it had earned him the nickname "Mr. Northeastern," would
choose, and the choice could be trusted.
How complete was that trust is evidenced in the minutes of the
Board of Trustees. As early as May 1956, reference is made to the
"important matter of naming a University building for Carl S. Ell to take
effect upon his retirement,"2 but there is no open session either in that
year or in any of the subsequent years dealing with the question of who
would be his successor. That matter was dealt with completely in
closed and confidential sessions. Only parties directly concerned had
anything to say; others could merely speculate. The astute, however,
guessed the choice as early as the winter of 1957. In January of that
year Dr. Ell had presented to the Board of Trustees his recommendations
for honorary degrees to be conferred at the June commencement. Con-
spicuous on the list was the name of Dr. Asa S. Knowles, currently President
of the University of Toledo but once a member of the Northeastern family.
To those who knew both Dr. Ell and Dr. Knowles, the selection seemed
particularly significant.
Asa S. Knowles had originally come to Northeastern in 1931, fresh
from Bowdoin and a year at the Harvard Business School. He was to be
an instructor in Industrial Management, but his rise through the ranks had
been meteoric. By 1935 he was an Assistant Professor; by 1936 he was an
Associate Professor and Acting Head of the Department of Industrial En-
gineering; and by 1937 he was permanent Head. In 1939 when the colleges
of Engineering and Business, which had been operated as a unit with Dr.
Ell in charge, were divided, each with its own dean, Professor Knowles
was appointed Dean of the College of Business Administration and Director
of the Bureau of Business Research, as well as Professor of Industrial
Management. In the meantime, Professor Knowles had earned his master's
degree at Boston University and had published a handful of articles as well
as a text on industrial management. This was the sort of ambitious young
man in whom Dr. Ell delighted. Some, indeed, speculated that the colleges
had been divided in order to give Dr. Ell's prodigy fresh fields to till.
In 1942, however, Dr. Knowles received a challenging offer from the
University of Rhode Island to become Dean of its School of Business
Administration and Director of the General College Extension. It was an
opportunity not to be missed, and reluctantly he tendered his resignation.
Presidential Selection and Inauguration 21
There was no question that Dr. Ell was deeply disappointed. Although in
ensuing years both men would generously praise the accomplishments of
the other, a break had been made, and for the next fifteen years their paths
seldom crossed. That Dr. Knowles was chosen as the recipient of an
honorary degree after all those years was a clear signal to many of what
was in the wind.
Even to those not privy to the inner circle of deliberation, the criteria
for the new President were clear. He must be someone who was not only
familiar with the University and sympathetic to the concept of cooperative
and adult education but also capable of dealing with some of the problems
that the University currently confronted. A brief survey of the minutes of
the Board of Trustees and of the Executive Council indicates some of the
most prevalent of these problems.
Enrollment. By 1956 the University had 13,000 students, the largest
enrollment ever, and by 1958, 18,000 students, "representing capacity."
Authorities, however, forecast that the college population in general would
double by 1970. Therefore, "it would be reasonable to assume that North-
eastern enrollment would increase to 9,000 day and to 18,000 evening
students ... if the University was to contribute its share in this future
national responsibility."3 The next President, therefore, would have to be
someone with flexibility and imagination to develop academic programs
in a way that would make them continually responsive to the demands
of this burgeoning enrollment.
Development. In 1934 the University had initiated its first "Master
Plan," and consistently throughout the next twenty years it had added
land and structures. Even before the Plan was completed, however, it was
clear that more development was in order. "An aggressive attitude of
acquiring land must be continued," and Northeastern must adopt a new
policy, that of announcing immediate needs and long-range needs "so that
possible benefactors may consider the needs of Northeastern."4 The next
president, therefore, would be ideally a person well versed in the intri-
cacies of university development.
Status. Although Dr. Ell was himself a very private person and not
given to public relations, he was aware as early as 1953 that the University
"had further to go to become . . . 'socially accepted' . . . [and] needed
to attract national and social prominence. Otherwise the University would
continue to labor in the shadow of outstanding universities such as are
in the Boston area."5 The new President, therefore, had to be a person
sensitive to the issues of the larger community and capable of commu-
nicating his Institution's sensitivity to that community.
Solvency. Over and over again like a drum roll underscoring all
22 IN THE BEGINNING
other considerations is the note of fiscal responsibility. No idea was ever
too intriguing, ever too enticing, to be considered apart from its ability
to pay for itself. In the face of mounting pressures for expansion, however,
the temptations to overspend were becoming increasingly acute. To have
done so, of course, would have been an anathema to Dr. Ell, who prided
himself on being able to account for the price and use of every pencil.
The new President, then, had to be a person unusually well schooled in
the intricacies of a management that each day was growing more and
more complex.
Understanding. "Northeastern is committed to Cooperative Edu-
cation by day and Adult Part-time Education by night." Sixty years of hard
work had gone into this commitment, and to retain this identity was top
priority. No person who could not clearly demonstrate that he understood,
sympathized with, and would carry on such a commitment would even
be remotely considered.
Reduced to a single requirement, the next President would have to be
one in whose judgment Dr. Ell had implicit faith. The obvious in-house
candidate was Dr. William C. White, Vice President and Provost of the
University, who many automatically assumed would become the third
President. A tall, distinguished-looking man with an infectious smile, an
easy-going personality, he was well liked by both staff and students and
knew the University thoroughly.
In 1921 William White had come to Northeastern as a student. Four
years later he was graduated with honors from the College of Engineering,
and in 1926 he became a member of the faculty of that school. In 1940 he
was appointed Dean of the College of Engineering and Director of the Day
Division. In 1953, although Dr. Ell did not part lightly with titles, Dr. White
became Vice President. In 1957 the post of Provost was created for him.
In his role as Chairman of the Executive Council, which was respon-
sible to Dr. Ell for the day-to-day administration of the University, Dr.
White not only had the close attention of the President but also his com-
plete trust. Thus the assumption that he would become president was
well founded, but those who made such a judgment reckoned without the
feelings of Dr. White himself. In spite of his proven managerial skills, which
were demonstrated by his central role at the University and by his easy
talent for getting along with others, he had no appetite for fund raising
and for public appearances, requisites for the office of President. In spite
of his unflagging energy — he could arrive at the office at six in the morning,
remain until six in the evening, and still take on a few sets of tennis — he
preferred to expend that energy on the internal workings of the University
Presidential Selection and Inauguration 23
rather than in the public arena where both Dr. White and Dr. Ell correctly
foresaw the new President would have to spend much of his time.
With Dr. White out of the picture and with the wisdom of hindsight,
it seems inevitable that Asa Smallidge Knowles would become the third
President of Northeastern. The experience that he gained after his sepa-
ration from the University seemed to have been tailor-made to equip him
to return to its leadership. In fact, in light of the above criteria, Dr. Knowles
had everything.
That Dr. Knowles had managerial skills had been amply demonstrated
by his stint at the University of Rhode Island, where he had been recruited
in 1942 to organize its School of Business Administration and the General
Extension Division. He had rapidly established both of these on a secure
footing while also juggling government contracts and courses into the
largest Engineering Science Management War Training Program in New
England, superseding even that of Northeastern, which was then second
largest. He had further sharpened this organizational ability to a fine point
in his next position as President of the Associated Colleges of Upper New
York State, where he went in 1946 and where within six weeks he effec-
tively materialized three separate colleges literally out of nothing.
The three colleges, strung out across the northern half of the state,
were to have served the undergraduate educational needs of veterans
returning from World War II. Although each was scheduled to open in
the fall of 1946, by August of that year, when Dr. Knowles was retained,
not so much as a pencil had been authorized. Under his direction that
situation changed radically. Within weeks three abandoned army bases
were transformed into dormitories, classrooms, and offices; a staff was
hired, programs were planned, and the three colleges opened right on
schedule: Champlain on September 23, Mohawk on October 16, and Samp-
son on October 23, 1946. It was a feat that would earn for Dr. Knowles
the reputation of one who did not so much as cope with red tape as
devour it. This genius for management was to demonstrate itself again at
the University of Toledo, to which Dr. Knowles went as President in 1951
and where "the eight years of his administration . . . gave a convincing
demonstration of what a well-managed institution could do."6
Supplementing his general administrative abilities was Dr. Knowles's
knowledge of business and financial management. While at the University
of Rhode Island, he had worked with local CIO officials on Worker Edu-
cation programs for the union, learning first-hand the intricacies of col-
lective bargaining, labor economics, and labor relations. Further, his
handling of the financial complexities of the Associated Colleges was leg-
endary, for although the state had been quick to reap credit for the project,
24 IN THE BEGINNING
it had not been so quick to legislate funds. Only Dr. Knowles's timely
negotiations with the federal government saved New York from harvesting
bankruptcy in the place of kudos.
Dr. Knowles also possessed developmental experiences that he had
garnered as Vice President of University Development at Cornell, 1948—1951,
and as an added attraction, if that were needed, he had national visibility.
In 1953 when President Ell had mentioned the need for Northeastern to
attain greater prominence, he had suggested an endowed chair as one way
of attracting well-known names to the University. If Dr. Knowles could
come, however, he would arrive with a name already known not only to
those in education but also to many in industry, labor, the government,
and the foundations. His journal publications alone, on such diverse topics
as "Getting the Industry Best Suited to the Community," "Management
Trends," "Higher Education and Technical Progress," and "Education as
an Instrument of National Policy," were well known, but his text, Indus-
trial Management, originally published by Macmillan in two sections as
Management of Manpower and Production Control, copyright 1943, had
swept the field. Reissued first in 1944 as a single volume, the text subse-
quently underwent numerous reprintings. In the first few years it was
adopted in 150 industrial management programs, including the Engineer-
ing Science Management and War Training Program at various colleges
and universities. Even as late as i960 Dr. Knowles was approached to
update the work, which continued to serve as a definitive text throughout
the country.7
In his twenty-year odyssey since Boston, Dr. Knowles had indeed
acquired a national reputation. The details are far too numerous to include
here, but it is worthwhile to note as an indication of this image that shortly
after assuming the presidency of the University of Toledo, Dr. Knowles
was directly solicited by President Harry S. Truman to become Director
of the Wage and Salary Administration. "In a crucial decision that would
have changed my life from the world of the academy to that of politics,
I declined." But if these credentials were enough to assure that his ap-
pointment would be appropriate and favorably looked upon by the edu-
cational community at large, they would be as nothing if they were not
also accompanied by the confident approval of the inner circle of North-
eastern and the total trust of Dr. Ell.
During his tenure at Northeastern, Asa Knowles had been both pop-
ular and highly respected. "He was," as a faculty member at the inaugu-
ration would remark, "one of us." Further, his commitment to the concept
of cooperative education and by extension to part-time programs that
trained for professions was well known. His ex-colleagues knew it first-
Presidential Selection and Inauguration 25
hand, but others who had come recently had only to peruse some of his
articles to realize how heartfelt that commitment was. "Management must
not overlook the necessity for training leaders. . . . Tomorrow's leaders
must be trained today." "[Students] can justly place some blame on the
schools for failing to prepare young people for the adjustment from the
classroom to the workshop." "National prosperity and security could suffer
for lack of trained manpower in certain professions requiring highly spec-
ialized training unless those being educated are encouraged to undertake
careers in which there are shortages."8
Most important, the President trusted Dr. Knowles. Even his 1942
decision to resign, which Dr. Ell had regretfully accepted, had confirmed
his respect for the younger man's judgment, particularly when the arc of
Knowles's career had so clearly demonstrated the correctness of his
choice. In fact, an amusing sidelight to note is that when Dr. Knowles
actually did return, Dr. Ell would often refer to the intervening years as
a "leave of absence," as if he had approved the move all along. Dr. Knowles
on his part was staunch in his admiration for the President and had con-
sistently accorded the older man credit for "giving me the background
and the expertise" that was particularly necessary to organize the Asso-
ciated Colleges. No, the issue of who should follow Dr. Ell was not a
problem, but who would follow him was another matter.
On June 6, 1957, while riding to commencement on the bus to receive
his honorary degree, Dr. Knowles was approached by Vice President
White, who asked if he would consider assuming the presidency of North-
eastern. Dr. Knowles was frankly surprised. While pleased to have been
invited back into the Northeastern family as the recipient of an honorary
degree, he had no idea of how extensive that invitation would be. In fact,
twelve months of negotiations passed before he gave his final answer.
At issue during these months was not any question of philosophic
disagreement. Both parties were totally satisfied that they shared a similar
understanding of Northeastern's goals and traditions, its vigorous democ-
racy, and its dedication to cooperative education, adult education, and
community service. Nor was any question of desire at issue. As indicated
above, Northeastern wanted Dr. Knowles. Dr. Knowles, for his part, was
ready to return to Northeastern. After eight years he felt that he had
accomplished everything that he could at Toledo. Both his own and his
wife's family were in the East. And the prospect of guiding the still ado-
lescent Northeastern, which he already knew and loved, into a meaningful
maturity was an exciting challenge. Both parties, however, were astute in
business, and the details of compensation and mutual responsibilities
would have to be carefully worked out if a happy marriage was to be
26 IN THE BEGINNING
assured. Thus began a year of correspondence, cloaked in total secrecy
in accordance with the wishes of Dr. Ell, who shuddered at the notion of
outside eyes prying into what he considered as strictly a private affair.
In the spring of 1958, almost two years after Dr. Ell had made up his
own mind and six months after he had assured the student body that "the
Board of Trustees and myself . . . [want to be] . . . sure we have the right
new President of this Institution before the present one steps out," the
assurance was guaranteed.9
In keeping with the decorum of the proceedings, Dr. Knowles was
invited from Toledo for dinner at the venerable and appropriately named
Union Club. Present were Dr. Ell and Robert G. Dodge, the first teacher
in Northeastern's School of Law, the first non— YMCA member to chair the
Board of Trustees, 1932—1936, and the first Chairman of the Northeastern
Corporation and Board of Trustees, 1937—1959. Also in attendance were
Frank Richardson, Vice-Chairman of the Corporation and Board of Trustees
and also a founding member, and David F. Edwards, Chairman of the
Executive Committee of the Northeastern Corporation since 1957 and soon
to become a fast friend of the new President. After dinner and con-
versation, Dr. Knowles was formally requested to step from the room.
Within minutes he was ushered in again. "If you wish the position," de-
clared Mr. Edwards, "it is yours." The new President had been chosen.
Although Dr. Knowles officially assumed office on July 1, 1959, the
inaugural ceremony did not take place until September 8. That morning
dawned — one of the hottest and muggiest in recent Boston history. The
weather, however, could in no way dim the high spirits and sense of
anticipation that pervaded Northeastern University's campus on Hunting-
ton Avenue.
The event marked the culmination of months of intense and rigorous
planning. Every detail of the day — the early afternoon dedication of the
Graduate Center, which marked the fulfillment of Dr. Ell's first develop-
ment plan; the elaborate inaugural ceremony, which was the University's
largest celebration ever; the afternoon tea for friends of the University;
the faculty dinner that evening — all had been arranged carefully to project
the image of a university prepared to embark, as the Reverend Charles W.
Havice would note in his inaugural invocation, "on to high adventures of
mind and spirit."
Following the dedication ceremony, precisely at 2:30, a procession
of delegates, consisting of four hundred representatives from over three
Presidential Selection and Inauguration 27
hundred colleges and universities and fifty-eight societies, began to move
from Cabot Cage down Huntington Avenue and across the quadrangle
toward the auditorium to the strains of the "Festive March." The group
was the most impressive assemblage Northeastern had ever marshalled,
and its presence served to underscore Northeastern's new role in the
larger educational community that would be so distinctive a part of the
Knowles administration.
In the auditorium, crowded with well-wishers and dominated by a
dais on which the officials gathered before a freshly painted nine-foot logo
of the University, the inaugural speeches began. Dr. Havice, Northeastern's
chaplain, delivered the invocation: "While he leads colleagues and students
on to high adventures of mind and spirit, may his firm hold on Thee be
a persuasive influence for all to achieve that which is enduring and ex-
cellent."10 The speakers — Dr. Owen B. Kiernan, Commissioner of Higher
Education for Massachusetts; the Honorable John B. Hynes, Mayor of Bos-
ton; and Dr. Harold Case, President of Boston University — extended their
greetings. Then Robert Gray Dodge, now Honorary Chairman of the Board
of Trustees, introduced Dr. James R. Killian, Chairman of the Corporation
of Massachusetts Institute of Technology, who delivered the inaugural
address.
The recurrent theme, as is the wont of all such greetings and ad-
dresses, suggested that the future was indeed uncertain, but that Dr.
Knowles would be able to meet the challenge. At the conclusion, Byron
K. Elliott, the newly elected Chairman of the Corporation and Board of
Trustees, extended to the new President the keys and charter of the
University and placed on his shoulders the great seal of Northeastern, a
gold octagon emblazoned with a laurel and the words, "Lux, Veritas,
Virtus. " 'Tours," he said, "will be the great privilege of leading North-
eastern to the fulfillment of its 'great promise for the years to come.' "n
A round of applause, both literally and figuratively warm, broke out. The
emblem of presidential office had been an innovation specially designed
by Tiffany's for this occasion, and its ritual placement emphasized the
dignity of the ceremony and the status of Northeastern.
The new President's own inaugural address was brief but eloquent.
He called attention to the new administration's indebtedness to the past,
its awareness of the present, and its hope for the future: "It is the task of
those of us in positions of responsibility at Northeastern today to have
visions as great as those who had the responsibility of providing leadership
for Northeastern in the past. It is our task to equal and even surpass our
predecessors in the implementation of these visions ... [so that] . . .
this University will achieve 'that greatness which is her destiny.' "12
28 IN THE BEGINNING
As the academic procession retired to the strains of "March Her-
oique," a spirit of confident goodwill swept the audience. The new Pres-
ident had shown himself to be sympathetic, confident, and forward-
looking. Dr. Knowles's interest was clearly with the continuing and ex-
panding prosperity of the Institution. It was the kind of sentiment with
which the Corporation (largely made up of businessmen), the alumni (the
majority of whom were rising in the ranks of business and industry), and
the faculty (already anxious in the atmosphere of the late 1950s to expand
their own professional growth) could easily sympathize.
Dr. Knowles and his colleagues had reckoned well. Reasoning that
inauguration day was one on which to establish the tone of the new
administration and not one on which to raise issues that might be poten-
tially partisan or divisive, they had planned that each event would reveal
a particular aspect of the University. The dedication of the Graduate Cen-
ter, for example, had been carefully orchestrated to focus full attention
on the accomplishments of the retiring President and to give formal rec-
ognition to those persons who had contributed to the building. The event
had served as a punctuation point to a distinguished career.
The brilliance of the inauguration ceremony itself had been carefully
calculated to convey the sense of grandeur, dignity, and stature of the
University at this present moment, although there was, nonetheless, some-
thing slightly ironic in the grandeur of those proceedings. Dr. Knowles
himself was not a man who particularly relished ceremonial honors or
hankered after the symbols of recognition. Being asked to assume lead-
ership of an institution he respected had been to him sufficient recognition
of achievement. He was convinced, however, that form is an essential in
conveying the content of an idea to the public at large — hence the great
academic procession, the nine -foot logo of the University, and the golden
lavaliere.
The afternoon was designed to balance this public image with a pri-
vate one. At 4.30 in the Edwin Sibley Webster Reading Room of the Library,
a reception was held for President and Mrs. Knowles. Here, in the more
homey atmosphere of bookshelves, carpets, silver tea urns, and crystal
punch bowls, people could actually shake hands, exchange a few private
words of congratulation and reaffirm the sense of intimacy that was part
of the Northeastern heritage.
At 6:30, with the temperature in the nineties but spirits refreshed by
the afternoon's pause, representatives from the alumni, the students, and
the entire faculty gathered in the main gymnasium of the Physical Edu-
cation Center for the faculty dinner. After the invocation by Wilfred S.
Lake, Dean of the College of Liberal Arts, and the reading of the Special
Presidential Selection and Inauguration 29
Tributes, Provost William C. White extended greetings from the faculty
and struck the thematic note: "We of the faculty look forward with con-
fidence towards further progress at Northeastern under the able and vig-
orous guidance of President Knowles." George C. Thompson, 30 Engineering,
spoke for the alumni and continued the theme: "We have seen the first
two phases of Northeastern's development. . . . We now enter a third
stage of development. What form this will take we do not know." And
John Quinn, '61 Business Administration, represented the student body
and reiterated: "We wish you a long, fruitful and happy administration,
destined to bring the University, in increasing measure, to greater heights
of excellence in its service to youth."13
The Presidents speech that evening, appropriately titled "A Look
Ahead," was more specific than the essentially inspirational address he
had delivered earlier. Dr. Knowles was speaking now, not to the com-
munity at large who needed only assurance that Northeastern would do
its best to "achieve her destiny," a challenge that had been proffered by
Dr. Killian, but to the community that must work together to fulfill that
destiny.
In this context, Dr. Knowles recognized that mere generalities would
not do, and he plunged directly to the point — that is, he made clear his
own educational convictions. Without hesitancy he supported the Uni-
versity as "it is committed to an educational venture which is a partnership
with business and industry in the education of youth and adults." He stood
squarely behind the concept of the Day Colleges' restricting themselves
to professional and general courses of study that lent themselves to the
Cooperative Plan of Education, and to evening programs that met the
special needs of adults. His educational philosophy was not elitist in that
he agreed with his predecessor that "young men and women who are
competent to profit from college . . . [should be] . . . privileged to
earn a degree." But lest this principle be misunderstood as an invitation
to admit any student who would only have to be weeded out later, Dr.
Knowles also made it quite clear that he considered competence ascer-
tainable, and that Northeastern must "strive to improve the quality of [the]
student body and graduates by improving [the] selection of students and
enhancing the quality of instruction." Nor were his standards for the
Institution to be any less exacting: "We shall strive constantly to improve
our efficiency, organization and staff."
The new President's philosophy of education was, in fact, very much
in the pragmatic tradition of many American educators. He conceived of
the process as goal-oriented — that is, as a means "to train and replace
. . . leaders in all fields of activities," as a means "to educate manpower
30 IN THE BEGINNING
to meet the nation's needs," and as a means to provide necessary and
meaningful career skills. None of this, of course, came as a surprise to his
audience, for Dr. Knowles had already written extensively on all these
points.14
What was perhaps a more vexatious unknown was how the new
administration intended to implement these convictions, what it intended
actually to do. Dr. Knowles's approach was carefully oblique: "Sometime
in the near future important decisions must be made. To obtain good
answers, we must first ask good questions. Perhaps some will be disap-
pointed when I do not give you the answers here tonight, but I am sure
that you will understand that in an academic institution, of all places,
decisions should be made only after taking the time for careful study and
considered judgment."15 Nonetheless, he made quite clear that evening
the directions in which he felt the University should go.
Under the guise of questions, a paradigm for future activities was
outlined: Should the University have a new evening college? Should the
University expand geographically? Should regular adult programs be pro-
jected as day programs? Should the University appoint faculty members
to do research only? As one faculty member remarked sixteen years later,
"It was all there on September 8, 1959" Dr. Knowles, however, was far
too experienced an administrator simply to deliver directives. He assured
his audience that an Advisory Committee would take these questions
under consideration, and this move in itself indicated a new departure,
for such a committee would consist of faculty as well as administrators.
And those with ears to hear understood that a new era of participation
was approaching.
Dr. Knowles's address had been carefully calculated to satisfy any
questions of where he stood, to point the way toward the future, and to
make clear that the new administration was to be an open one. At the
same time he assured the older staff that he understood the value of
yesterday: "Northeastern is a unique Institution. . . . There is no advan-
tage in making changes just to do things differently, and no advantage in
undertaking new ventures just to do something new."16 That this message
was well received and approved was manifest in the round of applause
that greeted it. A well-planned day had gone forward without a flaw.
As a footnote, however, it is amusing to record one unplanned event
of that day, which as much as anything was to suggest the character of the
new administration. Although the evening had been designed as a relatively
formal affair, by 7:00 the heat in the gymnasium had risen beyond all
calculation, and by 8:00 every man in the room, following the lead of the
head table, had removed his jacket and was down to shirt sleeves. Dr.
Presidential Selection and Inauguration 31
Knowles was not an informal person, but faced with the unforeseen, his
common sense and an instinct for survival prevailed. It was an appropriate
omen for the future.
Ill
A New President: Goals,
Strategies, and Structures
On November 12, 1959, Dr. Knowles addressed the Corporation
for the first time: "I know that members of the Corporation will not
expect me to outline plans for the future development and growth of
Northeastern University. Thus far I have been in office four months, and
it would be unwise for me to try to present any definite plans for the
future at this time."1 It would have been ingenuous, however, for any
member of the Corporation to assume that the third presidential
administration at Northeastern had entered into office a tabula rasa,
naively waiting for fate to write on its blankness the path of the future.
The questions that Dr. Knowles had posed to the faculty and staff
on September 8, 1959, already represented the direction in which he
foresaw the University moving. Even earlier, On July 1, upon officially
assuming office, he had distributed a list of committees to the
University community. The list included not only the usual University
Council, University Cabinet, Women's Cabinet, Committee on Social
Activities, and Library Committee, but four entirely new advisory
committees: Planning, Graduate School Policy, Research Policy, and
Faculty Policy. It was evident from the very names of these groups
what aspects of University life the new President felt needed special
attention.
32
A New President. Goals, Strategies, and Structures 33
In spite of Dr. Knowles's low-key approach, there was from the
beginning a strong sense of the direction in which he intended to steer
the University, and no one could have been surprised when two years
later these goals were finally articulated explicitly in a Draft Plan for
University Development:
The image of Northeastern will be recast . . . from a school serving
undergraduate commuters who must earn while they learn to a uni-
versity stressing broad educational values of the Cooperative Plan at
both the undergraduate and graduate level . . . [and] . . . pioneering
efforts in the extension of cooperative education into other scientific
and professional fields. ... [It will promote] an undergraduate stu-
dent body recruited as transfers from junior colleges and liberal arts
colleges as well as from high schools. . . . [And it will develop] a
center for graduate study and research [and] a center for adult and
continuing education with programs under continuous development
to serve the evolving needs of the community.2
In other words, the new administration envisioned the transformation of
the Institution from a primarily undergraduate commuter school into a
full-fledged, multifaceted university that would retain its commitment to
cooperative education and to adult and continuing education but that
would have a much larger enrollment and more sophisticated programs.
To effect this transformation, Dr. Knowles fixed on a strategy derived
from his own text on industrial management:
The profitable operation of industry is dependent upon good man-
agement. This means more than knowing just the principles under-
lying the managing of a manufacturing enterprise. It requires an
understanding of their application so that each branch of the business
is a part of an efficient working organism, each function properly
conceived, coordinated, and executed. It demands discrimination in
selecting the things to be done and the people to do them. It demands
the elimination of the unnecessary and the inefficient, and a constant
striving to preserve and improve the devices of demonstrated value
and usefulness. ?
Although this paragraph pertained to the successful conduct of an indus-
trial enterprise and had been written well over a decade before Dr.
Knowles assumed the presidency of Northeastern, he had no reason to
believe that its basic tenets were any less applicable to the successful
operation of a university on the threshold of the 1960s.
In the same text Dr. Knowles also wrote: "Nothing is more important
to sound management than systematic planning based on previous per-
formance and business judgment."4 Thus the administration's first step in
34 IN THE BEGINNING
its assault on its future was the establishment of pertinent planning struc-
tures as manifest in the announcement of the four new committees on
July 1. Yet, in one sense, this was not the first step at all, for the formation
of the committees had, in fact, been preceded by, and was the result of,
an unusual eight months of intense and exacting study.
For persons who have derived their knowledge of university admin-
istration from its operation in the late 1960s and early 1970s when college
presidents came and went through institutions with all the speed of shop-
pers on bargain day, the realization that President-Elect Knowles actually
spent eight months on the Northeastern campus as an observer prior to
assuming office may come as a shock. Even in 1958 the procedure was
somewhat unusual. Yet the concept of orientation, as Dr. Knowles was to
write later, was indispensable to the smooth transfer of power.5
Dr. Knowles resigned from the University of Toledo in the spring but
remained through the summer to complete old business and prepare the
way for his successor. Then in November 1958 he came to Northeastern.
He had no official duties or specific responsibilities; he was simply free
to become acquainted with the personnel and workings of the University
before assuming the authority to make decisions that would affect them
all.
A Daily Calendar for lg^—ig^g and a small brown leather book in
which the President-Elect kept notes provide evidence of his activities
during this period. A typical week in the Calendar records a 10:00 Wednes-
day morning meeting with the Executive Council, the body charged with
keeping the President informed on the daily operation of the University.
Five of the men on the Council were persons already well known to Dr.
Knowles: Dr. White, now Provost and Vice President; Edward Snow Par-
sons, Business Manager of the University; Milton J. Schlagenhauf, Coor-
dinator of Functions; Albert E. Everett, Dean of the Business School and
Director of the Evening Division; and of course, Dr. Ell. To meet them
again was in a sense to come home. Only Lincoln C. Bateson, who had
come to the University in the 1950s and had risen quickly to become its
major Financial Officer, was an unknown.
While Wednesday mornings were regularly devoted to the Council,
other mornings and frequently afternoons as well were devoted to meet-
ings with other old friends now in key administrative posts: the Dean of
Chapel, Charles W. Havice; the Dean of Students, Gilbert G. MacDonald;
the Director of Alumni Relations, Rudolph O. Oberg; the Director-Student
A New President: Goals, Strategies, and Structures 35
Activities, Herbert W. Gallagher; and the Registrar, Rudolph M. Morris. In
addition, there were persons whom Dr. Knowles did not know but whose
positions would qualify them for important roles in the new administration:
Kenneth G. Ryder, recently appointed Dean of Administration; Gilbert C.
Garland, Dean of Admissions; Roland H. Moody, Director of the Library;
and Roy L. Wooldridge, Professor of Coordination and Director of Co-
operative Work. There was also one woman, Myra Herrick, who had come
to the University in 1953 as the first Dean of Women, but who in 1958-59
would step down to be replaced by Dean Dorothy Dissell.
Members of the administration, however, in no way consumed all of
Dr. Knowles's time. The records for January and February of 1959 also
show that during these months he met with deans of all the colleges as
well as with the chairmen and directors of almost all of the departments,
including ROTC, Buildings and Grounds, and the Bureau of Business and
Industrial Research. He also lunched with the Trustees, with representa-
tives from other universities, and with businessmen and industrialists. In
addition, a whole Saturday was devoted to a "Meeting with Dr. Ell re
Development Work," and other blocks of time were allotted to trips,
particularly to New York and Washington where the President-Elect con-
tinued his work with educational associations concerned with current
problems of higher education, notably those of accreditation. On these
trips he also made contacts and cemented friendships with persons who
might prove of future use to the University. This formidable list of ap-
pointments accurately reflects Dr. Knowles's consuming energy and de-
termination to understand "every branch of the business" and to become
acquainted with "previous performance."
While the Calendar indicates the range of Dr. Knowles's activities, the
three-by -five-inch leather notebook more precisely indicates their scope.
A familiar image of the period is that of the President-Elect proceeding
from department to department, office to office, cramming innumerable
jottings onto 150-plus narrowly lined pages. These pages contained notes
concerning every department and every area of the University. The num-
ber of faculty, their qualifications, their publications, the ratio of students
to teachers, course offerings, the distribution of majors — all are duly re-
corded. There are notes on Buildings and Grounds, Security, and women —
"special problem," "attract," "consider AAUW." There are notes on budg-
eting and admissions policy, on the machinery of registration, and on the
status of dormitories. Some notes are discretely labeled "suggested
changes" and still others are less discretely marked "problems."
These problems in no way constituted a coherent policy, and, in fact,
it might be more precise to refer to them as dozens of different and
36 IN THE BEGINNING
disparate "wonderings." The Chemistry Department wondered if it should
not have more laboratory space; the Physics Department if there should
not be more research. The Business School wondered about accreditation,
the evening division about status. Permanent faculty were concerned that
they did not have tenure, lesser faculty that they did not have more
benefits. Everyone wondered about parking, and a great many wondered
if there could not be a few more secretaries to expedite the typing of
exams. To all of this. Dr. Knowles listened attentively.
Because he was a former colleague, because he was not yet in an
official capacity and thus not yet threatening, because he was consistently
open and friendly, the President-Elect was treated as a trusted confidant to
whom the constituency could casually unburden their problems. His in-
terest, however, was anything but casual.
Philosophically, Dr. Knowles was not committed to any particular
educational theories aside from those inherent in the general idea of
cooperative education and adult education. He was, however, committed
to a conviction that a meaningful analogy existed between education and
industry. In his text on industrial management, Dr. Knowles had made this
analogy explicit, projecting the image of the "well-rounded academic or-
ganization" as one requiring the same managerial skills as those required
in business. In his article "Education as an Instrument of National Policy,"
written at a somewhat later date, he used the industrial/education con-
nection as an informing metaphor: "[Educators] . . . are expected to
produce an intellectual renaissance. . . . They must see to it that the
new pattern of education and the demands for quality in our teachers,
students and facilities are so blended and utilized that we achieve a much
higher-quality end product in the educated man." Primary to good man-
agement was the need "to see the situation whole" and "to balance con-
flicting opinions of adviser specialists in order to arrive at decisions which
are advantageous to all."6
The period of orientation gave Dr. Knowles the unique opportunity
"to see the situation whole." Thus he pursued his research not from the
point of view of one passively curious about the state of the institution,
not from the point of view of one addicted to hard and fast educational
dogmas whose reception he wished to test, but from the very focused
point of view of an incoming manager convinced that the continued
growth of his organization could only be worked out in accordance with
the principles of good industrial management.
The concept of president as manager in some ways represented a
sharp break with the past. Respect for good business practices was, of
course, bred in the bones of Northeastern, and Dr. Speare and Dr. Ell had
A New President: Goals, Strategies, and Structures 37
both been perceptive men of business. Nevertheless, they had conceived
their relationships to the University more in terms of father to family, or
even owner to institution, than would Dr. Knowles. During their admin-
istrations, staff, faculty, and students referred to themselves as "the North-
eastern family," and it was not until April 1962, at one of the early meetings
of a new Faculty Senate, that a vote was passed to change that phrase to
"Northeastern community."" Dr. Knowles's own style anticipated this de-
sire to drop the family image in favor of one suggesting greater autonomy
of the participants and a larger, more all inclusive and less inwardly focused
constituency.
That Northeasterners were not only ready but anxious for such a
change was clearly indicated in the welter of material in the brown leather
notebook. Almost unknown to itself, the Institution had been touched by
events occurring in the larger world, especially since Sputnik. Individual
requests for more money for research, for larger facilities, for a greater
voice in administration, all reflected an awareness of the new opportunities
opening in science, of the new funds being made available for research
by the federal government, of the new status of universities and faculty
members as purveyors of skills essential to the national welfare. As a
corollary, some of the accepted practices at the University — the down-
playing of graduate studies and research, the careful husbanding and doling
out of funds, the complete centralization of authority — were beginning
to be perceived as practices more appropriate to yesterday than tomorrow.
Indeed, what Dr. Knowles saw was that if Northeastern were to assume
its place as a peer at the "head table of academic respectability," then it
could no longer be operated as a family affair but must develop structures
and policies more in line with older established institutions of higher
learning.
As the new administration moved through its first twelve months in
office, Dr. Knowles began to translate the information derived from the
period of orientation into new goals and to develop an organization more
appropriate to their achievement. Significantly, he did not replace any
personnel, even though replacement is a customary practice of incoming
presidents who feel the need to surround themselves with men on whom
they can depend to carry out their plans unencumbered by the past. Eight
months of observation had given Dr. Knowles a keen appreciation of the
talents and capabilities of the already existing staff. His confidence in these
people did not, of course, preclude the introduction of new committees,
38 IN THE BEGINNING
new offices, and new men to direct these offices, and he did make changes
in certain responsibilities and functions. Nevertheless, the policy of aug-
menting rather than replacing personnel meant that the driving energy of
his administration could tap two sources — those who already knew the
Institution well and those who could bring in fresh experience and in-
sight— both of these now allied together in a concerted effort to transform
the existing order into an even more effective and responsive instrument
of higher education.
Fundamental to transformation was information, and the designation
of the four new advisory committees was dedicated to this end. Each of
them touched on an area not only of concern to Northeastern but also to
the educational community at large, and to this extent they reflected the
new administration's sensitivity to both internal and external demands.
The Advisory Committee on Faculty Policy was particularly signifi-
cant. In a paper published in 1955, "How Can Colleges Meet the Impending
Teacher Shortage?" Dr. Knowles had made it clear that he was well aware
that universities must provide "attractive inducements to enter teaching."
On October 9, 1959, at a meeting of the American Council of Education,
of which Dr. Knowles was a member, the idea was discussed that nation-
wide "teaching faculty [should have] a greater share in the development
of academic programs; faculty talent should be used effectively not only
for reasons of morale, but for the development of the whole institution;
the criteria for faculty compensation should be widely discussed . . . [and]
the relationship between faculty and administration [should be] improved."8
The appointment of the Advisory Committee on Faculty Policy at
Northeastern anticipated all of these conclusions. It did not in and of itself,
of course, constitute a resolution of these problems, and another article,
"Notes on Academic Freedom," published in March i960, indicates that
Dr. Knowles felt Northeastern must still devise new faculty policies.9 The
Committee, however, opened the door to change and — radically enough
for Northeastern — demonstrated a recognition of the faculty's growing
desire to have a say in its own life.
A similar sensitivity to internal and external issues was manifest in
the establishment of the Research and Graduate Advisory Committees.
Since the war, Northeastern had expanded its research commitments from
nothing to almost 8350,000 in outside contracts. In 1958 graduate programs
had been reorganized, and Dr. Arthur A. Vernon was appointed Director
of a new Graduate Division, designed to coordinate all higher-level study —
it was, however, Dr. Knowles's sense that a greater effort must be made
in these areas. A contributing factor in his reasoning was the passage of
the National Defense Act of 1958, which included a special provision for
A New President. Goals, Strategies, and Structures 39
the subsidy of graduate work and thus opened the way for an entirely new
emphasis on this area. At the same time, the continuing proliferation of
research grants, particularly in science and technology, introduced a new
dimension into research that a growing university could hardly afford to
ignore. Anxious to explore the possibilities suggested by both these con-
ditions and appreciating the expertise of those involved in these areas,
Dr. Knowles appointed the two new committees.
While the above committees were staffed with current Northeastern
personnel who might be expected to best know the capabilities of the
Institution and its capacity to respond, the Advisory Committee on Uni-
versity Planning was chaired by a new man, Dr. Loring M. Thompson. Until
1959, the University's immediate and long-term needs had been deter-
mined on a relatively informal basis by the President in consultation with
his Executive Council. It was Dr. Knowles's impression, however, that
external pressures, particularly those exerted by ever-expanding enroll-
ments and by new business/industrial demands, warranted a more system-
atic and professional analysis. Thus, even prior to his assumption of office,
he prevailed on Dr. Ell to appoint Loring M. Thompson, a highly skilled
professional who had earned his doctorate in Higher Education Planning
at the University of Chicago, as Director for a new Office of Planning and
as Vice Chairman of a new Advisory Committee on Planning. Significantly,
Dr. Thompson was not quite "new." He had, in fact, graduated in 1939
from Northeastern where he had been a student of Dr. Knowles. He had
also worked under Dr. Knowles as Director of the Office of Planning at
the University of Toledo. To the committee and the office, therefore, he
brought both an understanding of the Institution and a wealth of outside
experience — qualifications of high priority for one charged with "working
on an overall master plan, not only for the development of Northeastern
in the years immediately ahead but for years to come."10
Taken together, the four advisory7 committees continued a precedent
established during orientation "to balance conflicting opinions of advisor
specialists in order to arrive at decisions which are advantageous to all."11
Yet, for all his respect for the advice of these committees and for all his
appreciation that men must take an active part in decisions that affect
their area of expertise, ultimately Dr. Knowles depended most strongly
on his own experience and intuition to design structures that would carry
Northeastern into the future.
3
Endowed with an almost uncanny ability to anticipate economic and
political as well as educational trends, convinced that Northeastern should
40 IN THE BEGINNING
profit from these trends, and equally convinced that "it is in the budget
that general policies are given definite, concrete expression,"12 Dr.
Knowles set up a Development Office to secure new and substantial re-
sources even before the recommendations of the Office of Planning in-
dicated that such a move was warranted. The primary function of the
Development Office was to promote "the overall program of adding to
the University's resources through well-rounded, forward-looking, fund-
raising activities," which included "the promotion of alumni giving and
gifts from corporations, foundations and other organizations; the design
of programs to encourage bequests and the giving of funds by the creation
of annuities, trusts, and life income agreements; and the organization of
official fundraising campaigns."13
To direct the development operation, Dr. Knowles appointed a sec-
ond new man, also a graduate of Northeastern, F. Weston Prior. Mr. Prior
had served with Dr. Knowles as Associate Director of Development at
Cornell. His professional qualifications as well as the dispatch with which
the office was created — it opened September 1, 1959 — underscored the
importance that the new administration would place on development.
The creation of the Development Office, however, also introduced
a problem — what to do with alumni fundraising efforts, which since 1943
had come under the jurisdiction of Rudolph O. Oberg, Director of Alumni
Activities. In December 1959 Dr. Knowles sent a memorandum to Mr.
Oberg, citing "the need for greater amounts of resources which must be
acquired by Northeastern in the years ahead if it is to fulfill its role as an
institution of higher learning of high stature." The memorandum went on
to outline the relationship that might exist between the Alumni and De-
velopment Offices and to lay the groundwork for still another unit devoted
to fund raising:
If alumni relations are to be most effective, there must be a careful
division of work and a fixing of responsibility for various aspects of
the work.
One division of work is the promotion and development of those
activities which have to do with organization of clubs, arrangements
for meetings, providing programs for clubs, arranging for class reun-
ions, and so forth. These activities, if properly done, comprise a full-
time job.
A second division of work is fundraising activities. . . . This also
is a full-time job. The person in charge . . . will work with the director
of the Development Office, who will supervise his activities and give
general direction to his work, coordinating it with other fundraising
programs of the Development Office.14
A New President: Goals, Strategies, and Structures 41
Mr. Oberg responded that he agreed with Dr. Knowles's assessment of the
situation, and in a subsequent meeting between Professor Oberg, Mr. Prior,
and Dr. Knowles, the details of the arrangement were worked out. On July
1, i960, another new staff member. William A. Lovely, Jr. ( 1958), joined
the University as Director of a new Office of the Alumni Fund.
Still two more new offices were established in the first months of the
third administration — the Office of Public Relations and Nonacademic
Personnel and the Office of University Publications. The function of the
first was to interpret "the activities of the University to the public through
the work of such offices as the Press Bureau, University Publications, and
Nonacademic Personnel." The Director would also serve "as manager of
University functions and as host to visiting dignitaries, who come to study
the educational methods and procedures of Northeastern."15 The function
of the second office under Editor Descomb T. Stewart was to promote
and professionalize the appearance of all the University's publications. The
basic assumption behind the creation of both offices was that the Uni-
versity not only had something to offer but something deserving public
attention. Such confidence in the Institution was, in fact, very much an
article of Dr. Knowles's own faith and one of the more important, if
intangible, legacies that he would give Northeastern.
None of the areas covered in the aforementioned offices — Planning,
Development, Alumni Fund Raising, Public Relations — were new. What
was new was the organization — the establishment of separate offices, each
with its own director who would report directly to the President, that
gave formality and professional status to the conduct of these affairs. At
the same time this reorganization released the President from the daily
burden of such affairs and gave him more time to oversee and coordinate
all parts of the University.
As implied in the introduction to this section, Dr. Knowles tended
to do things with expedition, and his leadership expressed itself in rapid
and intuitive judgments rather than arduous analysis. With such analysis
now relegated to the new offices, he was free to exercise those judgments
in the delegation of tasks and the appointment of new personnel. Perhaps
no better example of his style exists than in his appointment of John S.
Bailey as Director of Public Relations.
In 1959. when Dr. Knowles assumed the presidency. Milton J. Schla-
genhauf, who had served the University for thirty-eight years, was the
Director of Public Functions. Professor Schlagenhauf, however, was ill,
and the responsibilities of planning the inauguration and extending the
functions of his position to meet the demands of the new administration
became a heavy burden. "We needed help," said Dr. Knowles. "Then I saw
42 IN THE BEGINNING
this young man in the corridor and instantly liked him." As a consequence,
Dr. Knowles appointed John S. Bailey, who was currently working in the
School of Business, as a special presidential assistant and aide to Schla-
genhauf. When Professor Schlagenhauf retired the following year, Profes-
sor Bailey became the Director of a vastly expanded Office of Public
Relations. In the next few years he moved up to become Dean of University
College, where he served until 1967 when he reluctantly extended his
resignation to accept an appointment as the President of Nasson College
in Maine.
Professor Bailey's rapid rise amply demonstrated the Tightness of Dr.
Knowles's intuition; in the meantime, the two men also became close
friends. "I remember once we went to Jordan Marsh," reminisces Dr.
Knowles. "They were all set up for the opening of the college season with
pennants from many colleges and universities but none from Northeastern.
John and I went back to the University, bought one, and brought it to
them." Such was the substructure of informality beneath the superstruc-
ture of professional management.
Gearing up specific offices to develop resources and transmit antic-
ipated changes in the Northeastern community to the public at large
would not, of course, be enough in themselves to assure Northeastern's
successful transformation into a major university. At the same time, other
internal organizational changes also took place that reflected, anticipated,
and prepared the University for dramatic developments. Basically these
changes comprehended two areas — University services and academic
reorganization.
Prior to 1959 all University services pertinent to health, physical ed-
ucation, and athletics had been administered by the Department of Student
Activities. While this structure was appropriate to a relatively small uni-
versity, the information gained during his orientation led Dr. Knowles to
believe that it would not be appropriate to vastly expanded enrollments.
Thus he moved to create new departments that would allow these areas
more autonomy and more room to expand. A new Department of Health,
Physical Education and Athletics was established with Herbert W. Gal-
lagher, Professor of Physical Education and former Director of Student
Activities, appointed as its Director. In his new position Professor Gal-
lagher would integrate programs in health, physical education, and ath-
letics, arrange intercollegiate sports schedules, and have general
responsibility for overseeing the health of the student body. He would
also direct a new program in physical education for men. This program,
the first of its kind at Northeastern, was scheduled to begin in the fall of
i960; it would provide special courses for young men skilled in athletics
A New President. Goals, Strategies, and Structures 43
for coaching and other professional careers. It was the first of many new
programs that gave recognition to a new professional area.
With the creation of the Department of Health, Physical Education
and Athletics, the Department of Student Activities, now under the direc-
tion of former Associate Director Charles E. Kitchin, was free to concen-
trate on clubs, organizations, and events, which in a large and heterogeneous
university can provide the one forum for common, nonacademic pursuits.
At the same time, Student Health Services, which at this point offered
programs only slightly more sophisticated than those offered in any good
secondary school, was moved into much larger, renovated quarters in the
Forsyth Building, and Dr. George M. Lane, who had previously served the
University on a part-time basis while maintaining a private practice, was
asked to assume full-time direction of a vastly expanded health program.
Other important, all-University services that were changed, expanded,
or instituted during this first year included the appointment of Edward
W. Robinson as Director of Financial Aid and Part-time Placement. The
new position not only cleared the way toward processing a great many
more applicants in this area but also anticipated the effect that the newly
passed National Defense Act, with its provisions for undergraduate as well
as graduate loans, would be having on the University. At the same time,
Kenneth W. Ballou was appointed as Associate Director of Admissions to
help Dean Garland handle the anticipated work load in that area. The
installation of a new 650 IBM computer in i960 and the appointment of
Richard I. Carter as Director of the Computation Center to oversee its
operation as both an instructional and research service amounted to an
explicit declaration that Northeastern not only intended to operate with
the best available tools but also intended to expand its base of operation.
Perhaps the most significant development of all, however, was the
change in the name of the Department of Cooperative Work to the De-
partment of Cooperative Education and the addition of the title "Dean" to
its director, Roy L. Wooldridge. While the move clearly signaled that Dr.
Knowles intended to make the Cooperative Plan of Education one of the
central elements in the Institution's bid for enhanced status, it is doubtful
if anyone, except perhaps the President himself, realized exactly how
central the development of cooperative education was to become.
On January 5, i960, Dr. Knowles presented his "Plan for the Admin-
istrative Reorganization to the Executive Committee of the Board of Trust-
ees," and the following day a "Chart of Northeastern University's Proposed
Organization, July 1, i960," was distributed to members of the Executive
Council for their information. This chart covered not only the subjects
discussed above but also the very central subject of academic reorganization.
44 IN THE BEGINNING
The issue immediately at hand and that which prompted the academic
reorganization was accreditation for the College of Business Administra-
tion. The problem had first surfaced in the spring of 1958 when the Amer-
ican Association of Collegiate Schools of Business rejected a request for
accreditation from the College of Business Administration:
The principal problem . . . was the relationship of the Evening
School of Business to the program of the College of Business Admin-
istration. The Committee was evidently bothered by the fact that there
were two independent units within Northeastern University, each
offering degree-granting programs in the field of business. . . . The
inspectors also felt that the MBA program should be related to the
full-time faculty rather than to the faculty of an evening school.16
Ironically, the Association's field report, returned to Northeastern on
March 5, 1958, described these problems as "minor," although it was
evident to the University's administration that any attempt to meet the
Committee's demands would actually require a major restructuring of the
present academic organization. Nevertheless, Dr. William C. White had set
to work to design a solution, and in August 1958 he submitted to Dr. Ell
a "Proposal for the Establishment of a New College at Northeastern to
Encompass All Evening Undergraduate Programs." Dr. White suggested
that a new educational unit be formed to administer all the undergraduate
degree-granting programs now offered by the School of Business and the
Evening College of Liberal Arts. At the same time, the Graduate School
would take over the administration of the graduate programs now offered
by the School of Business, the College of Liberal Arts, and the College of
Education. It was his belief that this reorganization "would eliminate the
objections urged by the Association of Collegiate Schools of Business to
the University's having two independent schools or colleges of business
on the same campus," and, at the same time, "would eliminate the con-
fusion" that had "inadvertently developed as . . . educational offerings
during evening hours had grown in scope."17
In response to the conclusions of this report, which had been cir-
culated some months before the final draft was ready, a Graduate School
had been set up at Northeastern as of July 1, 1958. The School, under the
direction of Arthur A. Vernon, gathered together under one administrative
umbrella all of the University's graduate-level programs, including the
Master of Business Administration. But while this move conformed to Dr.
A New President: Goals, Strategies, and Structures 45
White's suggestion, the rest of his plan was rejected. On August 25, 1958,
Dr. Ell returned the proposal with a brief note: "Northeastern not ready
for this yet."
One year later, however, Dr. Knowles assumed office, and it was clear
to him that if the new administration was to achieve credibility as one
dedicated to the advancement of Northeastern, the Institution would have
to be ready. To the new President full accreditation was a basic prereq-
uisite of University stature. To delay the opportunity to acquire such
validation in any area would, he felt, have been to show a lack of confidence
in the Institution's abilities and to undermine the administration's sense
of purpose.
Given the experience of both Dr. Ell and Dr. Knowles, their different
responses to the same situation are clearly understandable. (See Chapter
VIII for a discussion of accreditation at Northeastern. ) Suffice to say here,
however, that in 1959 the idea of accreditation — recognition by some
legally constituted outside organization that a particular program meas-
ured up to the standards of that organization — had not yet achieved the
prominence that it was to have in the 1960s when federal agencies would
prove reluctant to give funds to unaccredited programs and accreditation
became an important financial consideration. This was not the situation,
however, in 1959 when the real value of accreditation — except in specific
professional instances where it was a prerequisite for licensing — lay pri-
marily in the aura of respectability it connoted. Dr. Knowles's response,
however, was not so much an intuitive perception of the future as hard
knowledge derived from past experience.
As President of the Associated Colleges of Upper New York State and
later as President of the University of Toledo where he became an active
participant in the work of the North Central Accrediting Association, he
had seen firsthand that this was an "aura" not to be taken lightly by an
Institution determined to take its place, as Dr. Knowles would often say,
"at the head table of academic respectability." Thus, even though the
administration might have preferred to await the results of the conclusion
of the Long-Range Planning Committee before undertaking such a major
step, circumstances dictated the need for immediate action, and action
was taken. By the end of July 1959, Dr. White's year-old plan was dusted
off and discussion began on the possibility of putting it into operation.
Professors Lincoln C. Bateson, Northeastern's Financial Officer, Ed-
ward S. Parsons, Business Manager, Albert E. Everett, Director of the Eve-
ning Division, and Kenneth G. Ryder, then Dean of Administration — all
46 IN THE BEGINNING
of whom had given their approval to the original plan — met in consultation
with the newly formed Faculty Advisory Committee, and by October 1959
a new "Proposed Plan for Integration of Day and Evening Undergraduate
Degree-Granting Programs" was ready for submission to the Board of
Trustees.18
The new proposal, although it strove for the same general goals as
the White plan, was far more radical and far-reaching than the original.
Dr. White, perhaps out of respect for Dr. Ell, had promised to retain the
horizontal administrative structure that the President had cited in a report
to the Board of Trustees in 1957 as "one of Northeastern's major accom-
plishments." Under this plan the Evening Division operated as an auton-
omous unit, separate, if more or less equal, to the Day Division. The
Evening Division had its own admission and graduation standards and its
own staff, largely made up of part-time faculty who might or might not
have appointments in the Day Division. It also had its own Director, Dr.
Albert E. Everett, who was responsible for the design as well as the co-
ordination of all courses offered to part-time evening students and who
reported directly to Dr. Ell — hence the designation "horizontal structure."
It was apparent to the new Faculty Advisory Committee that such a
structure, although it had served well in its own time, could neither
support the weight of a new college as proposed by Dr. White nor con-
tribute to the enhancement of the evening part-time programs. Thus a
vertical administrative pattern was proposed that would integrate the day
and evening degree programs, would allow for greater flexibility in the
decision-making process, and would provide a more equitable distribution
of responsibility. The change was one that Dr. Knowles had planned to
institute under any circumstances, but pressure for accreditation of the
College of Business Administration served as a catalyst for prompt action.
The new plan encompassed four parts. Because the Association of
Collegiate Schools of Business would not grant accreditation to North-
eastern as long as it offered a day program leading to a degree in business
and a different evening program leading to the same degree, it was decided
to eliminate the Evening School of Business by merging it with the Day
College of Business Administration and accord to that College alone the
privilege of granting the business degree with specification.
At the same time a new college was created. This was to be called
University College in recognition of the fact that it would draw on the
resources of all the other units of the University with the exception of
Lincoln Institute and the College of Engineering, which because of the
Engineers' Council for Professional Development's regulations must re-
main autonomous. The new college would make no attempt to duplicate
A New President: Goals, Strategies, and Structures 47
day offerings but would provide certificate, associate, and bachelor degree-
granting programs that cut across subject matter lines and were particu-
larly suitable to the requirements of adult students. Admission would be
based on satisfactory achievement in high school and subsequent work
experience. In general, students would not be accepted directly from high
school but only after they had established themselves in business and
industry. Thus University College would appeal to the same kind of student
who had previously taken courses in the Evening School of Business and,
indeed, these students could still take programs incorporating a major in
business administration, management, and accounting but with one sig-
nificant difference: These programs would now lead to a Bachelor of
Science without specification. Thus the problem of the two business de-
grees was solved, and at the same time a framework was established to
upgrade the evening programs.
According to the provisions of the new plan, all course offerings in
University College would be subject to the review and approval by the
full-time day faculty. Appointments to the faculty of University College
would have to be approved by department heads in the day units, and the
deans of the day colleges, aided by newly appointed assistant deans, would
be ultimately responsible for all matters in their particular subject areas
regardless of time slot. In such a way educational standards, admission and
graduation requirements, and degrees conferred would all be standardized.
Thus for the first time the autonomy of the Evening Division was wiped
out, and with it went the tendency on the part of some day personnel to
look askance and often rather patronizingly at that Division.
A final facet of the plan was to establish an Office of Adult and Con-
tinuing Education, which would be responsible for expanding and devel-
oping the University's special nondegree programs and services, for
directing the promotional activities for all evening programs that were of
special interest to business and industrial-employed personnel, and for
supervising the administrative staff involved in all evening operations.
Taken together, all of these stipulations would give Northeastern a
new academic unity and considerably enhance both its potential for de-
velopment and its educational status. Nevertheless, there were still some
who expressed dismay and who worried if the University could afford
such precipitous action. These, however, were the days when the major
obstacle to change was not the need for concensus but only the timidity
of those in power, and Dr. Knowles was not a timid man.
On January 5, i960, the "Plan for the Administrative Reorganization of
Northeastern to become effective July 1, i960," was submitted to the
Executive Committee of the Board of Trustees and approved.19 On January
48 IN THE BEGINNING
6, it was discussed by the Executive Council; on February 13, i960, Pres-
ident Knowles and Provost White took the plan before the Northeastern
faculty — the plan for the reorganization of the evening programs, for the
establishment of University College, for the new designation of degrees,
which made clear the distinction between day and evening programs, and
for the creation of the Office of Adult and Continuing Education. On July
1, the plan went into operation.
The academic reorganization that gave birth to University College
and the Office of Adult and Continuing Education and that led to accred-
itation of the College of Business Administration was to prove a landmark
in the development of Northeastern as a major university offering a rich
and varied provision of courses to an ever-widening constituency. But
even before this reorganization was effected, proposals for other new and
different kinds of programs were beginning to trickle across the desk of
appropriate deans and of Provost White and to come to the attention of
the Faculty Advisory Committee. It was a trickle, which in the next few
years, as more money became available and as the President's receptivity
to new ideas became clarified, would become a veritable flood.
The most significant of the academic innovations, developed in the
winter of 1959—60 and scheduled to be implemented in the fall of i960,
included an Honors Program in Liberal Arts, a Center for Management
Development, an evening Bachelor of Science degree program in Edu-
cation, and a sequence of courses in nuclear studies for undergraduates
in chemical and mechanical engineering. The Honors Program, approved
January 13, i960, by the Faculty Advisory Committee and the Board of
Trustees, was open to juniors and seniors with a three-point average who
were named by the department chairmen. It represented the first of many
substantial steps to upgrade the status of that college.
The Center for Management Development, opened in October i960,
was the brainchild of Dr. Albert E. Everett. Early in 1959 he had asked
Boston executive Paul J. Erickson, then teaching business policy part-time
in the School of Business, to study the need for an intense, highly spec-
ialized program designed to meet the needs of middle managers in business
and industry. More than thirty presidents, vice presidents, and other top
officials of companies submitted their recommendations to him, which
A New President: Goals, Strategies, and Structures 49
resulted in a program that had a unique cooperative approach to executive
development.
According to provisions of the final plan, which was drawn up by
Erickson and his associate, Professor Bernard P. Goldsmith, in conjunction
with an eight-member advisory board, middle managers would attend
seven weeks of classes extending over a six-month period. This schedule,
alternating weeks of study and work, eliminated the inconvenience of
prolonged absence from the job and the necessity of securing replace-
ments. Conducted at the Andover Inn at Andover, Massachusetts, with
enrollees housed at the inn and classes given at Phillips Academy, the
Center was in easy access of Route 128, where many of Boston's most
prestigious business and industrial firms were located. Not only did the
program increase Northeastern's constituency and extend its Cooperative
Plan of Education to new levels, but it also underscored the University's
continuing commitment to adult education and to the business and in-
dustrial community with which it had traditionally been allied. In all of
these aspects, it served as an important indication of the new administra-
tion's direction.
Another program that extended Northeastern's constituency and
commitment to adults was the new evening and part-time curriculum
leading to a Bachelor of Science degree in Education. Offered through the
College of Education, this program was designed to alleviate the increas-
ingly critical need for teachers. It appealed particularly to those already
in the profession but who had not yet completed their bachelor's; it also
appealed to housewives and mothers who contemplated returning to
teaching careers and to high school students who were interested in this
area but had to work full time.
The nuclear energy sequence was still another indication of North-
eastern's new outward-reaching policy. In December 1959 the United
States Atomic Energy Commission granted $47,284 to the University for
the development of education in the field of nuclear science education
and teaching. In January i960 Professor Ralph A. Troupe and Professor
Arthur Foster of the College of Engineering made visits to atomic instal-
lations in Brookhaven, New York University, the U.S. Maritime Commis-
sion, Drexel University, and the University of Pennsylvania as part of a
general investigation to establish a nuclear reactor at Northeastern. By
February a site on the ground floor of Science Hall had been selected for
nuclear training facilities, and in June i960 authorization was given for the
first undergraduates in chemical engineering to present a two-course nu-
50 IN THE BEGINNING
clear sequence as qualification for graduation. The following month the
University approved a total budget of $88,764, inclusive of the AEC grant,
for the development of nuclear programs. Soon after, a similar two-course
sequence was authorized for seniors in mechanical engineering. By fall,
the nuclear program was in full operation, and delegates from as far away
as Egypt were coming to inspect the new installation.
Altogether, the formation of the four new advisory committees, the
establishment of the five new offices, and most important, the reorgani-
zation of the administrative structure to accommodate not only new and
expanded all-University services but a totally new college and enhanced
adult education programs, represented gigantic strides toward the future.
The introduction of the new academic programs had further lengthened
that stride. In toto, it had been a year of intense and vigorous planning
and finally of decisive moves. Yet in his address to the Corporation in
November i960 Dr. Knowles declared, "It would be very easy to 'rock
along,' or to 'hold the reins' and keep things as they are."20 A certain
amount of surprised laughter must have greeted this statement, for already
it was clear that a great deal had been done and that nothing would ever
be quite the same again.
The academic year 1960-61 opened on a note of eager anticipation.
The new administration's obvious energy and the implementation of
structures designed to translate that energy into action had whetted a
general appetite to do even more. Faculty, students, and alumni, long
mere passive partners in the working of the University, now began to
see themselves as active participants and began to take part in
organizations that would secure their own status.
In the early days of Northeastern, one of the great rewards of teaching
had been the sense of camaraderie that existed among all members of the
staff. While course loads might have exceeded twelve or even fifteen hours
and while pay might have been relatively low, still a feeling of shared
problems, of open communication between faculty and administration had
eased the burden. This situation was hardly surprising, as many persons
played dual roles. For example, in the mid- 1930s Harold Melvin was Dean
of Students but also taught Creative Writing, Nineteenth-Century Poetry,
and American Literature. Milton J. Schlagenhauf was Director of Admis-
sions and Functions but also handled courses in Economics. John S. Pugsley
5i
52 IN THE BEGINNING
was both the Director of School Administration and a Professor of
Geology.1
During the late 1940s and early 1950s, however, growing enrollment
had necessitated a concurrent growth in staff, and much of this commu-
nication dwindled. Certainly it was no longer as easy for any one person
to assume two caps. Nevertheless, although the division between faculty
and administration was daily becoming more distinct, no attempt was
made to formally bridge the gap. It was taken for granted that what the
administrative branch perceived as good for the University would be ac-
cepted as such by the faculty. The Executive Council, particularly Dr.
White, who kept in close touch with the deans, served as the official
conduit of faculty recommendations. Ideas for new programs filtered
through his office to be considered and approved by the Council or, just
as often, ideas were generated by the Council — particularly the Presi-
dent— and simply passed to the colleges for implementation. In such a
way, for example, and with no feedback from the faculty, the College of
Education was instituted in 1953, simply on the recommendation of Dr.
Ell and Dr. White.
By 1959, however, when the teaching staff had reached the equivalent
of 267 full-time faculty (exclusive of physical education staff, administra-
tors with faculty rank, and ROTC personnel) and when the entire staff,
including administrators and day and evening part-time faculty, numbered
800, the centralized control of programs and the lack of means for com-
munication between faculty and administration were increasingly becom-
ing sources of frustration.2
During the period of his orientation, Dr. Knowles had sensed this
frustration. In addition, he was aware, particularly after his experience at
Cornell where the faculty had almost total control over academic pro-
grams, that to the outsider, at least, Northeastern's system must appear an
anachronism. Certainly it was not a system to attract topflight men and
women who were used to more autonomy in the direction of their own
programs and to more input in the academic decision-making process.
Consequently, as noted above, one of his first official acts was to appoint
a Faculty Advisory Committee that would have a voice in matters pertinent
to faculty welfare.
By November i960 two other special subcommittees had also been
appointed. One, chaired by Arthur Foster, Associate Professor of Mechan-
ical Engineering, was to consider the feasibility of establishing a Faculty
Senate; the other was to consider the possibility of tenure and sabbatical
Background for Expansion 53
leaves — ideas not yet operative at Northeastern where joh security was
provided by appointment to a "permanent faculty" and where there was
no perceivable need for time off to develop professional research skills.
During the fall of 1960-61, the Foster Committee worked on orga-
nizational plans and the codification of responsibilities for a potential
senate: how it would operate on matters of academic policy, who would
make up its constituency, what would be its powers and areas of juris-
diction. By June 1961 the work of the group had reached the stage where
it was resolved to postpone elections to the Faculty Advisory Committee
on grounds that, if approved, a Faculty Senate would be established in its
stead that fall. Approval was promptly forthcoming from the Board of
Trustees, and although some of Dr. Knowles's colleagues expressed some
reservation as to the prudence of allotting so much power to the faculty,
Dr. Knowles was pleased and felt the risk was justified. In fact, it might
justifiably be said that this was the very structure he had in mind from the
beginning. Thus on September 5, 1961, the new legislative body met for
the first time.
The Faculty Senate as designed in 1961 was composed of twenty-four
teaching and research faculty of assistant professor rank and above, chosen
proportionately by college and elected by their peers. Eight other places
were filled by administrators appointed by the President, with the Provost
serving as chairman and a permanent member. There were three standing
committees: Agenda, Faculty Policy, and Academic and Research Policy,
as well as provision for ad hoc committees to be appointed as the need
arose. The function of the body was to give the faculty a greater voice in
determining academic courses and programs, in granting degrees, and in
formulating all academic policies.
In its original form the Senate was, if not weak, at least relatively
unsure of itself and in the early years seemed more concerned with de-
fining areas directly related to faculty welfare than to matters of academic
policy. By the end of the decade, however, it had grown substantially to
become, particularly through its Agenda Committee, a powerful if not
always welcome voice in the operation of the University. This, however,
is to anticipate the future. What was important in 1961 was that in two
brief years since inauguration one of Dr. Knowles's most important con-
tributions to the University had already been put in place, collegiality had
come to Northeastern. (See Chapter XVIII for further discussion of the
Faculty Senate.)
As the Senate was being designed, the work of the second Faculty
54 IN THE BEGINNING
Advisory Subcommittee was also going on, and by the spring of 1961 it
had a tenure policy to replace the older, more informal "permanent fac-
ulty" designation. The new policy reflected recommendations of the
American Association of University Professors (AAUP), a chapter of which
was established at the behest of the faculty at Northeastern in May i960.
Significantly, at this point the Association had only an advisory function
and none of the political-labor connotations it would later assume. The
new policy was submitted and approved, at least in principle, by the Board
of Trustees in the spring of 1961 and was subsequently included in the
Faculty Handbook ig6i—ig62, although revision of many of its finer points
would occupy the Senate for some years to come. The Committee's work
on the question of sabbatical leaves was now referred to the Faculty
Senate's Subcommittee on Faculty Policy, and a proposal supporting the
concept of sabbaticals was subsequently accepted on March 6, 1962.
All of these moves brought the conditions under which Northeastern
faculty worked into closer alignment with those of other major universities
and put the University in a far better position from which to recruit
topflight personnel. It was a position consistent with Dr. Knowles's in-
auguration pledge to "strive constantly to improve our . . . staff." And
it is probably no coincidence that of the twenty-nine appointees to pro-
fessorships in the Basic Colleges in 1961, over two-thirds already held the
doctoral degree, an unprecedented number for an institution that had
been traditionally receptive to predoctoral candidates.
Over the next few years faculty conditions steadily improved. A "Pro-
posal for the Strengthening and Expansion of Selected Departments in
Science and Engineering" issued May 3, 1963, notes that "nearly 200 faculty
and staff members have been added in the last three years in preparation
for expanded offerings at the graduate level, especially in fields of science
and engineering. Faculty salaries have been improved as much as 52 percent
on an overall basis. Increases in pay and in payrolls for new faculty have
resulted in an annual faculty payroll in excess of $i,5oo,ooo."3
At the same time the University deliberately began to widen the base
of its recruitment, particularly of women, of whom there were almost
none on the faculty in 1959, and of blacks, of whom there were only two.
A letter from Dr. Knowles to Vice President White on June 23, 1959,
concerning ongoing interviews of candidates for appointment to the fac-
ulty of the College of Education addresses itself directly to this point:
I have always believed that an institution of higher learning must not
allow race or creed to be a factor in judging qualifications of faculty
appointees. If a male appointee is to be recommended for this position,
then the person considered yesterday morning should be recom-
Background for Expansion 55
mended if his qualifications are the hest among the applicants heing
considered and if he possesses the other qualifications sought for the
position. . . . Puhlic relations problems may arise with an applicant
and it is the role of the administration to see to it that this does not
happen insofar as possible. ... I would like to urge that a woman
faculty member be appointed for the position for which a candidate
is being sought. This would be desirable from the standpoint of at-
tracting and holding more women students '
In such ways, then, Northeastern began to move outward. The ad-
ministrative structure had been revised to correspond with that of other
institutions and to allow for greater expansion. Now faculty conditions
had been revised to put the University in a more competitive position,
and faculty members were being encouraged to assume responsibility and
acquire status more in keeping with their university role. But perhaps
nowhere would change be more immediately apparent than in the en-
couragement suddenly accorded the student body to reach beyond itself
and participate in the larger world.
In the fall of 1959, when Dr. Knowles returned to Northeastern, the
day student body was closer in character to what he had known in the
1930s than it had been for some time or would ever be again. The influx
of older students brought in under the GI bill had receded, and the average
age was now back to 18 to 22. In 1959 the average freshman was 18 and
was one of 1,870 who had been chosen from a pool of applicants of
approximately 5,000. (In 1970 3,600 would be selected from a pool of
13,275 applicants.)5 He was white and very much male. Total female en-
rollment had crawled to a record 435, a considerable improvement over
the 45 enrolled a mere three years earlier when the University began to
make a concerted effort to recruit women. There was still, however, a
long way to go to reach the 35 percent enrollment of women attained in
1974-75. At tne same time there was less than a handful of black students
and only slightly more foreign students. (Between 1955 and 1965 a total
of 170 undergraduate foreign students enrolled at Northeastern. No sta-
tistics are available on black student enrollment, but a glance at the year-
book, Cauldron, for the class of i960 suggests that their numbers were
even less.)
The average freshman in 1959 paid $675 for thirty weeks of courses.
As an upperciassman on the Cooperative Plan of Education, he paid $520
for twenty weeks of courses in any college but Engineering, in which case
56 IN THE BEGINNING
he paid $6oo.6 In any instance, however, the fee represented a substantial
chunk from the budget of his family, which on the average was in the
lower-middle-income bracket. Nevertheless, the sacrifice was justifiable
as he was often the first of his family to attend college.
Chances were eight in ten that the average student commuted, better
than seven in ten that he spent Wednesday afternoon marching down
Huntington Avenue toward the drill ground in the then khaki uniform of
the ROTC — Northeastern had the largest single campus volunteer unit in
the country7 — and the odds were even better that he conformed strictly
to the same rules of conduct that had pertained since 1916. If not, he went
before Dean Gilbert MacDonald and the Executive Council for disciplinary
action. To be caught smoking three times in any but very restricted areas
meant suspension; and three unexcused absences from class courted ex-
pulsion. There are no records of what happened to anyone caught drinking.
Perhaps the crime was too heinous to consider. In addition, if the student
was one of the few who lived in either of the two men's residences, he
was subject to even stricter regulations, including a rigid curfew and no
parietals. There were also three women's residences that had, of course,
equally if not more stringent rules.
To continue, the average student did not carry an IBM card. (It was
not until May i960 that Daniel J. Roberts, Bursar, Donald H. MacKenzie,
Dean of Lincoln, and Alan A. Mackey, Assistant to the Registrar, began to
investigate the applications of IBM to their offices and not until the fall
of i960 that "do not fold, mutilate or spindle" became part of Northeastern
jargon.) There were no air-conditioned classrooms (the first air condi-
tioning did not come to campus until the opening of the Computation
Center in i960); and more significant, students had no on-campus religious
or political organizations to join or any nationally affiliated fraternities,
although there were ten local social fraternities.
The average student wore his hair neatly clipped with short sideburns,
sported a white shirt with his slide rule sticking out of the breast pocket,
and occasionally was known to commit the sartorial gaucherie of wearing
white socks with his loafers. His female counterpart wore a knee-length
skirt with a color-coordinated sweater and a modified beehive kept in
place by a newly popular aerosol hair spray. On social occasions "nominee
for top fashion honors goes to the little black/brown dress that moves
from freshman tea to fraternity party with equal aplomb."8 In the privacy
of her own room, she might wear jeans, but by dress-code rule she never
appeared in these or in shorts in any public area of the campus.
The main channel for his and her social energies, aside from those
provided by the various social clubs and organizations under the Depart-
Background for Expansion 57
ment of Student Activities, was participation in sports events, particularly
homecoming festivities that sparked considerable spirit. Ram-napping —
that is, stealing the mascot of the competing Rhode Island team — elicited
paragraphs in the News and inspired Northeasterners' desire for their own
live mascot, which gave rise to some of the fiercest student protest of the
period.9 The issue was finally resolved when students pooled their re-
sources to pay for a full-sized bronze husky statue, subsequently installed
in the vestibule of the Ell Center in 1962. Selection of the homecoming
queen and later in the season for queens of the Winter Carnival, initiated
in 1959, and of the Spring Military Ball also commanded spirited attention.
(The introduction of co-eds in 1943 allowed Northeasterners to choose
one of their own for this regal position. Previously it had been necessary
to select the "date of so and so," a custom which at best must have been
awkward.) Another election that brought enthusiastic response was that
for the Mayor of Huntington Avenue, a post ultimately accorded to the
most enthusiastic and imaginatively costumed candidate whose duties
included no more than getting himself elected.
This, then, was the student body that greeted Dr. Knowles. It was a
group with whose ambitions and problems he could well sympathize.
They were after all not too unlike the students whom he had taught twenty
years earlier and, in some ways, certainly in their desire for a college
education, they were not too different from the young men who had
passed through the Associated Colleges of Upper New York State. They
stood apart, however, at least in terms of the opportunities provided by
their college life from the mainstream of men and women in major uni-
versities, and this distinction gave the new president pause for serious
consideration.
In the past, Northeastern had abjured contact with outside student
organizations, reasoning that such affiliation could be internally divisive
and make the Institution subject to extramural pressures that could un-
dermine its sense of identity. In i960, however, facing conditions under
which the student body would inevitably become larger and more het-
erogeneous, Dr. Knowles reasoned that these same affiliations would now
function to reinforce a sense of identification between student and student,
between student and campus, and between student and the larger world
in which he or she must take an increasingly active role. In October i960
he agreed, therefore, that the Faculty Committee on Student Activities
should consider for approval a student petition for student organizations
identified with recognized political parties. The petition itself reflected
a growing interest in political affairs that the administration at this time
was only too glad to foster. Shortly afterward the first on-campus political
58 IN THE BEGINNING
clubs opened for membership. These included the Young Republicans and
the Young Democrats, and in 1962 a twenty-five-member Students for
Democratic Action Club. By the mid-1960s, all of the above were recog-
nized political organizations as well as the Young Americans for Freedom
(YAF).
Although in retrospect this recognition may seem a delicious bit of
irony, it is doubtful that it made any difference at all to events in the late
1960s when political enthusiasms hardly waited on University approval for
their expression. The more immediate result was to bring on to campus
club-sponsored speakers, including Boston mayorality candidates, Massa-
chusetts gubernatorial candidates, and, in 1962, the country's first black
senator, Edward Brooke. The clubs also inspired interest in the University's
first presidential poll.
Far more radical than the clubs, however, as a means to open up
student life was the approval that Dr. Knowles gave to the national affil-
iation of fraternities and the establishment of new fraternities (frozen at
ten by a 1953 regulation). Dr. Knowles's belief that fraternities could be
beneficial to the quality of life on campus had been initially shaped by his
own undergraduate experience as a member of the Bowdoin chapter of
Chi Psi, an affiliation that also proved socially and professionally beneficial
in later years. His appreciation that such an organization could also help
the Institution stemmed from his experience at Cornell as Vice President
of Development and at the University of Toledo as President. In both
places he saw at firsthand that many of the most loyal and responsible
undergraduates had fraternal identification and that many of the most
generous alumni traced their happy memories of the institution to their
memories of activities in the fraternities. In an article published in 1953
in The Sigma Alpha Epsilon Record, Dr. Knowles sums up these
observations:
[Fraternities] . . . are accepted as being as much a part of what one
expects to find on the college campuses of our country as the gym-
nasium, the playing fields, the library and classroom buildings. . . .
[In addition] being conservative, fraternities and sororities can be a
constructive influence in campus life, contributing greatly to stability
when campuswide problems arise. Moreover, sorority and fraternity
members develop great loyalty to their alma maters — the loyalty to
the fraternity group and common interests with other similar campus
groups bolsters the loyalty to the institution of which all are a part.10
With such a perception, it is not surprising that Dr. Knowles gave his
support to a revision of University policy, which went into effect May 12,
1961. The revision allowed for both the establishment of local fraternities
Background for Expansion 59
and for the affiliation with national organizations "whose aims, objectives,
and policies are not in conflict with those of Northeastern."11 The follow-
ing year two local fraternities, Kappa Zeta Phi and Sigma Kappa Psi, became
the first at Northeastern to take on national affiliation, becoming Tau
Epsilon Phi and Alpha Epsilon Pi. Phi Alpha Rho became the first new local
fraternal organization allowed in thirty-five years.
During this same period and as indicative of Northeastern's growing
enrollment of women as its support for special interest groups, four so-
rorities were also chartered, bringing the total number of such organi-
zations in the fall of 1962 to two national fraternities, nine local fraternities,
and four local sororities.
Although the fraternity movement at Northeastern would never
achieve the status that it held at some of the larger midwestern universities
(total membership seldom exceeded 3 percent), it did provide an im-
portant source of student spirit, particularly in the early 1960s. In the late
1960s, of course, there was a general disenchantment with such organi-
zations nationwide, and it was not until the late 1970s that membership
again began to expand (at a rate of almost 8 percent a year by 1979).
Nevertheless, by 1975 Northeastern did have twelve fraternities, five with
national affiliation, and three sororities, two with national affiliation. The
importance of the revised policy of i960 proved not quantitative but
qualitative. It provided a new dimension to student life, offered new op-
tions, and allowed Northeasterners to participate in a form of student
activity that was available to their peers in other major institutions.
The reasoning that "the loyalty to the fraternity group and common
interests with other similar campus groups bolsters the loyalty to the
Institution of which all are a part" also influenced Dr. Knowles's decision
to allow denominational religious activities that had previously been for-
bidden on campus. Although Northeastern had a long tradition of em-
phasizing religious values — its roots were after all in the YMCA — and
although regular chapel services had been conducted for years by the
Dean of Chapel, the same ban that had pertained to national fraternal
organizations had been invoked against religious organizations:
The University is interested in encouraging all students to affiliate
with religious organizations of their choice in their own parishes or
in Boston. The University sponsors non-sectarian chapel services on
a voluntary basis which are open to students once a week in the Bacon
Memorial Chapel. The University does not charter student organiza-
tions which establish separate student groups on nationalistic, racial,
political, or religious bases.12
60 IN THE BEGINNING
It was Dr. Knowles's perception, however, that by i960, although the
basic principle — not to divide the student body — was still apt, the means
were no longer valid. He felt that in the face of growing enrollments and
subsequent broadening of student interests, greater unification could be
effected by bringing interest groups together rather than by setting up
artificial barriers to their communication. Thus steps were taken to permit
the existence of religious clubs, and the same busy fall that saw the Uni-
versity open up to national fraternities also saw the Newman Club and
Christian Science Organization successfully petition the University for
recognition. The following year these two clubs were joined by the Baptist
Fellowship, The Lutheran Group, Canterbury Club, Hillel, and the Inter-
university Christian Fellowship.
Of equal, if not greater, importance in opening student life and pro-
moting awareness of the world beyond Huntington Avenue was the en-
couragement given to cultural and educational activities, particularly by
the faculty through recommendations by the Faculty Advisory Committee
and later by the Senate. Speakers in the 1960-61 academic year alone
included Werner Von Braun, who predicted a man in space by 1961, Joshua
Logan of theater fame, and Harry Belafonte, identified in the January 20,
1961 News as "one of the most electrifying personalities in folk music
today."13
In the spring of 1962, a Faculty Senate proposal for a cultural bulletin
designed "to expand the cultural horizons of students" reflected a growing
interest in cultural affairs and served to shape future interest. Edited by
Joy D. Winkie and published by the Office of University Publications,
NUcleus enjoyed a wide list of subscribers not only within the university
but in the larger Boston Community as well. The publication was discon-
tinued in 1967 but only after the public media had assumed many of its
functions.
Through such efforts the student body at Northeastern began to come
of age, to leave behind forever the kind of June Allyson, Dick Powell,
technicolor model of student life in favor of an image more appropriate
for men and women who as the 1960s dawned were beginning to find a
new role for themselves in the larger world. (See Chapters XV, XVI, and
XVII for further discussion of students at Northeastern. )
As the faculty and students began to enjoy a new period of partici-
pation, so also the alumni began to be more active. The July i960 admin-
istrative reorganization of alumni affairs into two distinct offices — one
that dealt with alumni activities and one that dealt with fund raising — had
Background for Expansion 6 1
signaled the University's intention to cultivate its former students more
assiduously in the future than it had in the past.
Two policy changes suggested by Dr. Knowles at the time support
this conclusion. The first change was expressed in a request to Mr. Oberg's
office that the alumni newsletter, The Northeastern Alumnus, be made
available to all graduates on a regular and frequent basis, a suggestion
implemented in the fall of i960 when quarterly distribution began.
The second suggestion was equally significant although somewhat
more subtly proposed: "Officially the University recognizes only degree
holders as alumni. With this limitation there are nearly 23,000 alumni.
Many colleges and universities include as alumni former students who
have been in attendance for one or more academic years as students. If
Northeastern should redefine its designation of alumni, the alumni body
could easily become one of 40,000 or 50,000 persons. This would be one
of the largest alumni bodies in the country."14
The implication was obvious; Dr. Knowles would like as many people
on the alumni roster as possible. No official steps, however, were taken
to implement this idea on a formal basis, for an almost immediate increase
in enrollments, particularly in part-time students, soon made the operation
logistically unfeasible, simply in terms of record keeping and tracing non-
degree students. Nevertheless, the suggestion did open the way for local
associations to welcome any who were interested in their activities but
who had not received degrees, and it also sanctioned the Alumni Office
to retain records and extend privileges to former nondegree students who
sought them out.
Further underscoring the new administration's interest was the num-
ber of visits that Dr. Knowles himself made to various organizational func-
tions. In the spring of i960 alone, for example, he personally visited alumni
clubs in New York City, Philadelphia, Worcester, Webster (Pennsylvania),
Maine, and Connecticut. As if sparked by this enthusiasm, the alumni clubs
themselves began to take an active part in their own reorganization. Prior
to i960 these organizations had been divided into three separate associ-
ations, one serving the day colleges, another serving the School of Business,
and a third serving the School of Law. On November 5, i960, however,
the alumni voted to adopt a new constitution and bylaws that would weld
their now almost 30,000 membership into one all-University organization.
The action, which was conceived at the time as largely a matter of im-
mediate necessity — after all, there no longer was a School of Business,
much less a School of Law — proved in the long run to be one of the most
important moves of the early 1960s. On the practical level the new unit
served to coordinate and focus alumni activities. On the psychological
62 IN THE BEGINNING
level it revitalized the relationship between graduates and their alma ma-
ter. Both of these factors worked together to forge an alumni structure
that would later operate as a linchpin in further development of the Univer-
sity. During the same period the clubs also began renewed efforts in
fundraising activities, and with the exuberant support of Rudolph Oberg,
who was a master at whipping up spirit, new alumni organizations began
to form.
As the spirit of participation spread among the various University
constituencies and as structures began to be put in place that would
enhance the status of individual groups and allow for future development,
the University began a concerted policy of bringing the message of North-
eastern before the public. The issue at hand was not enrollment — the
mere number of men and women reaching college age at this time would
have ensured heavy applications under any circumstances — rather it was
to clarify the image of Northeastern and to carve for it a clearly defined
space among major academic institutions.
Basic to the University and fundamental to the image it wanted to
project was its concern for the professional development of young Amer-
icans. In the fall of 1959, therefore, with the encouragement of the admin-
istration, Roland Darling, Occupational Information Specialist in the Office
of Admissions at Northeastern, launched a unique thirty -program radio
series entitled "Careers for Young People," which was carried over several
New England stations. Mr. Darling's low key, nonpromotional approach
earned the respect of his audiences, and the program continued for several
years. As an extension of this project, he also developed tapes and filmstrips
on career possibilities that were distributed from Northeastern's Career
Information Center, a service organization directed by Mr. Darling under
the aegis of the Department of Admissions. By 1961 in an average month
nearly five hundred schools in New England and New York, which might
have hesitated to serve as conduits for advertising, were receiving this
material.
During the same period and as part of clarifying its academic image,
Northeastern also became involved in still other radio programs. In May
i960 it was the first of five selected participants in a program called
'Yankee Network School of the Air," a New England-based radio service
that brought thirteen weeks of academic lectures into the home. The
reason that Northeastern was chosen to start the series was articulated by
the Yankee network president and is in itself significant: "We are going
Background for Expansion 63
to start with Northeastern because they have given us encouragement,
they have people with vision, they have manpower to assist us, they have
program material ready, and they are most enthusiastic."15
This enthusiasm to make itself known via the media continued, and
by 1964 over one hundred members of the Northeastern faculty had been
heard on twenty -four New England stations as guests of still another pro-
gram entitled "Northeastern Faculty Talks," a series also broadcast to radio
listeners in New York, Maryland, Washington, DC, North Carolina, and
California. Nor does this list take into consideration other more broadly
based educational programs such as that hosted by Louis Lyons on WGBH,
Boston, on which Dr. Knowles appeared several times as a spokesman for
higher education.
Far more important, however, than the media in establishing North-
eastern's identity was the encouragement given to members of the faculty
to participate in associations and organizations concerned with issues
directly affecting the University's development. As early as 1959, Dr.
Knowles wrote to the Association of Urban Universities, a group designed
to study the opportunities of universities and colleges in larger cities and
to bring about effective communication among them: "As you know North-
eastern was a member of the Association for years but former President
Ell did not find it possible to participate . . . and finally submitted the
Institution's resignation. I would like to have Northeastern reinstated."16
The attitude depicted here was typical of the new administration and
reflected the President's conviction that in a period of potential expansion
the more the University knew about what was going on in the outside
world the more it actively cooperated with that world. In addition, the
more that outside world knew about what was going on at Northeastern,
the better the Institution's chance to lead rather than follow the parade.
It was out of this conviction that Dr. Knowles allowed himself to be
appointed in i960 to the Board of Directors of Boston's Chamber of Com-
merce and in November 1961 to a committee of twenty-six educators who
were enjoined by the Massachusetts Council for Public Schools to study
the strengths and weaknesses of public education. During the same period
he also appeared before a Senate Subcommittee on Education in the United
States as a representative for the American Council of Education in support
of the extension and improvement of the National Defense Education Act.
While these examples in no way exhaust the associations Dr. Knowles or
the faculty and staff would make for Northeastern — for example, William
Miernyk, Director of the Bureau for Business and Industrial Research, also
appeared at this time before a Senate Subcommittee for two days of hear-
ings on problems of the textile industry — they do suggest the range of
64 IN THE BEGINNING
such commitments from local to national, and the scope from urban to
economic to educational.
No single organizational contact made at the time, however, was more
important than those President Knowles now fostered in the area of co-
operative education. In 1959 he encouraged Northeastern' s participation
in a study being conducted by the Thomas Alva Edison Foundation on
Cooperative Education. In the spring of i960 Professor Roy L. Wooldridge
and Provost White attended a meeting of this foundation in Dayton, and
by the following fall steps were already underway for Northeastern to
participate in one of the most important associations in the history of
cooperative education, the National Commission for Cooperative Educa-
tion. (See Chapter Xrv for details of this development.)
As part of this same outreach policy, the University also extended its
efforts to bring the services of the University to the community. In the
summer of 1961, the University cooperated with the National Science
Foundation in organizing a special summer science institute for high
school students under the direction of Charles Goolsby, Associate Pro-
fessor of Biology. Other similar efforts included a history seminar program
and, of course, the Center for Management Development.
It would be difficult to assess the immediate impact of Northeastern's
growing contacts with the outside world as they began to develop in the
first year of the decade, but unquestionably they did at least prepare the
way for acceptance of the University as an institution on the march, and
it is perhaps significant to note that by 1961 Northeastern had become
"the most popular institution of higher learning for graduates of all the
city high schools including Boston Latin,"17 a startling contrast to a dozen
years earlier when it had ranked well behind Harvard, Boston University,
and Boston College in a similar poll.
While Northeastern's most obvious outreach program was that con-
ducted by the faculty and administration in the interest of making North-
eastern known, another quite different kind of outreach, quietly taking
place behind the scenes, was equally important in preparing the Institution
for its future. In 1954 Dr. Ell had casually remarked that were the University
to reach an enrollment of 18,000, there would no longer be sufficient
space to accommodate even the present programs, to say nothing of new
programs. Three years later that observation was no longer casual. A surge
of enrollment had brought about capacity far sooner than anyone could
Background for Expansion 65
have anticipated, and by 1957 a note of urgency was sounded as Dr. Ell
enjoined the Board of Trustees to pursue "an aggressive land policy."18
Although the construction of the Graduate Center, completed in 1959,
somewhat relieved the immediate pressure on facilities, it was apparent
to Dr. Knowles, even before he took office, that the top priority for his
administration must be acquisition of more land. It was a crisis situation
made doubly acute by the sudden awakening of what had been for many
years an almost "sleeping city." To fully appreciate exactly what that
phrase means, the reader has only to envision the Greater Boston area of
1959. To the west beyond the circle of the newly constructed Route 128
was an essentially rural landscape, only now being bulldozed into the vast
stretches of suburbs that would accommodate the ex-urban population
of the 1960s. To the east, the metropolitan area spread out along a web
of narrow streets basically unchanged since the building boom of the turn
of the century. At the farthest eastern limit was the waterfront, where
working fishing trawlers dumped their wares onto crumbling wharves and
gulls wheeled above lofts, many untouched since they had been built in
the 1800s and now showing the inevitable toll of time.
Beyond the waterfront, the financial district, housed in a series of
dignified, old granite buildings, would not have been unfamiliar to Bartleby
the Scrivner. The Common, it is true, was in the process of renovation.
Derricks and bulldozers, like giant prehistoric beasts, gulped the land to
make way for a new parking garage, and the golden dome of the State
House was splinted with scaffolding to prevent damage to its Bulfinch
facade. But beyond this there were only vague rumblings of activity.
Women in white gloves, hats, and low-heeled shoes still strolled a Back
Bay reminiscent of Henry James and took their tea at Schrafft's. In muted
tones of relief they discussed the planned obliteration of Scollay Square
and the Old Howard for the new government center, and in somewhat
less relieved tones speculated on the impact of the planned Turnpike
extension from Allston to the Prudential Center, a construction that was
in itself shocking to Boston sensibilities. After all, the tallest building in
New England was still the 1947 John Hancock, and "that, my dear, violates
the Boston skyline."
If the Boston ladies, however, wondered about the effects of change,
the administration at Northeastern was well aware of what effects these
changes would bring. The Prudential Center might still be only a plywood-
fenced hole in the ground, but it was a significant hole. Even more sig-
nificant was the dream vision of the future soon to be displayed in the
lobby of the Christian Science Mother Church, which left no question that
the land in that area would soon be at a premium. Two further devel-
66 IN THE BEGINNING
opments increased the pressure on space: the state planned to develop
an inner-belt highway that would skirt Northeastern on one flank, and the
Harvard Medical complex planned to extend its facilities along the Fenway,
hemming the University in from the other direction.
In the face of such a squeeze, it was imperative that Northeastern buy
now if it were to buy at all. "The University administration must be au-
thorized to buy whatever it can wherever it can," Dr. Knowles informed
the Board of Trustees in 1959 and promptly received authorization for just
such action.19
Top priority, of course, was the land immediately adjacent to the
campus. Two parcels in particular were considered prime necessity. The
first was the Boston Storage Warehouse that abutted the Opera House
land in the heart of the campus, and the second parcel comprised eleven
acres of railroad property directly to the south. Both pieces had stubbornly
eluded the University's grasp, the former because of difficulty in deter-
mining ownership and the latter because of the refusal of the New York,
New Haven, and Hartford Railroad to negotiate. It is an amusing footnote
to history that both of these properties became available shortly after Dr.
Knowles arrived in Boston, and both of them through a totally arbitrary
cast of fate.
In the first instance, President-Elect Knowles, having arrived in Boston
in the fall of 1958, began negotiations to store his furniture at the ware-
house. In the course of a conversation with the manager, a name surfaced
that was familiar to Dr. Knowles from the past. The name was that of a
Mr. Thomas Kaplin, who had once asked him when he was President of
Toledo to serve as Chairman for the Yeshiva Medical College Group.
Although Dr. Knowles had been unable to assume the post, the two men
had become friendly. Presuming on this friendship, Dr. Knowles now
contacted Mr. Kaplin only to discover that indeed he was the owner of
the warehouse. Negotiations for the land began promptly, and final papers
were passed on December 15, 1959.
The story of the railroad property proved even more quixotic. In the
early 1950s the University had made overtures to the New York, New
Haven, and Hartford Railroad for the land directly behind Northeastern,
which was currently cluttered with tracks, a loading platform, and railroad
equipment. Although there was little evidence that any of this equipment
was being used full time, the overtures were consistently resisted. By
1959 almost a decade of attempts had yielded nothing. Again fate stepped
in. At a state function in the winter of his first year back East, Dr. Knowles
Background for Expansion 67
happened to mention to a dinner companion the difficulties that North-
eastern was encountering over the railroad. The dinner companion kindly
suggested that Dr. Knowles call on a Mr. Charles Bartlett, a well-known
Boston lawyer whose specialties included handling legal matters pertain-
ing to railroads and railroad properties.
The next morning Dr. Knowles visited Mr. Bartlett and again limned
out the woes of Northeastern vis-a-vis the New York, New Haven, and
Hartford Railroad. Mr. Bartlett could hardly have suppressed a grin. It was
not, he declared, at all surprising that the University was encountering
such difficulties, for although the New Haven used and had used the
property for over a score of years and did nothing to alter the impression
that it was theirs, they were, as a matter of fact, not the owners at all —
an honor that rightfully belonged to the Boston and Providence Railroad.
"Furthermore," added Mr. Bartlett dryly, "there are a great many bond-
holders who have received nothing on their investment for years and
would welcome the notion of Northeastern buying the property."20 And
so Northeastern, once the logjam had broken, promptly set about making
the purchase, with final agreements being consummated in April 1961.
In the meantime, and in a somewhat more orthodox manner, ma-
chinery was put in operation to obtain the United Realty lots and buildings
that extended for some seven acres along Leon Street and to purchase still
another series of lots and buildings on Ruggles Street, Field Street, Tavern
Road, and Greenleaf Street. Thus, slowly, parcels of land ranging from
1,000 square feet for the smallest to upward of 10,000 square feet came
under the wing of the University.
At the same time negotiations took place to buy properties north on
Huntington Avenue that could be used for residences. These included
apartments on Hemenway, Gainsborough, and St. Stephens Streets, as well
as the first apartment unit on the Fenway — 90 Fenway. The largest single
unit, however, was the Roosevelt apartments at the corner of Huntington
Avenue and Forsyth Street, destined to become White Hall. Still other
apartments were leased with an option to buy when finances permitted.
In general, all of these acquisitions were either in the center of, or abutted,
already owned University land. In most instances these properties were
either rundown or abandoned, thus the problem of displacing residents,
which would surface later in the decade, was not an issue. Indeed, North-
eastern largely served to revitalize the area. By 1961 the University had
expanded its boundaries from the approximately 14.5 acres it owned on
the day of Dr. Knowles's inauguration to approximately forty acres. The
68 IN THE BEGINNING
time had come to start building, but even before this phase, still another
significant step was to be undertaken when in 1961 Northeastern began
its march to the suburbs.
Like so many events that have far-reaching consequences, the initial
steps in this extension were relatively casual. Late in the winter of 1961,
Mr. \\ inthrop P. Hersey. a member of Northeastern's Advisory Board for
the Center for Management Development, had called to the attention of
Dr. Knowles the possibility that Northeastern might acquire as a gift a
large, well-built mansion on the Pierce Estate in Weston, Massachusetts.
The Pierce property, which had originally encompassed more than
three hundred acres, had recently been purchased by real estate devel-
opers and was being cut into large lots. But it was the contention of Mr.
Hersey that the realtors might be interested in deeding the mansion, itself
a fine old stone house that had originally cost $450,000, back to its original
owner if she, Mrs. Alice Mustard, would make the property available to
an educational institution as a conference center.
Up until this point the LTniversity had thought of expansion largely
in terms of the Huntington Avenue property; nevertheless, the new admin-
istration had a reputation of being flexible. Currently in the process of
trying to find room for its rapidly expanding Office of Continuing Edu-
cation, it was interested; and on Saturday. March 4, President Knowles and
Provost White, in the company of Mr. Morrison, the realtor, drove out to
Weston to view the property.
It would be hard to envision a place that contrasted more sharply
with the urban Boston campus. Located high on a rock)' ledge, with a view
of one of Boston's poshest suburbs, the house was redolent of an elegant
past. More relevant, however, the disposition of rooms and the easy access
to Route 12S made it ideal as a conference center. In addition, the house
was in excellent condition and would require only minimal alterations.
As a consequence of this visit, then. Dr. Knowles contacted Mrs.
Mustard, granddaughter of the first owner. Dr. Roger Babson. The realtors
had been correct; Mrs. Mustard was quite predisposed to the idea of an
educational institution taking over her property and even more predis-
posed in favor of Northeastern. Although she was not quite prepared to
donate the mansion as a total gift, she was prepared to accept a modest
payment, which was subsequently provided by Mr. Ernest Henderson,
President of the Sheraton Corporation of America and a member of North-
eastern's Board of Trustees. One month after the idea had been suggested.
Background for Expansion 69
the first papers were passed, and by August 24, 1961, Northeastern had
begun its march to the suburbs.
In his September i960 welcoming address to the freshmen, Dr. Knowles
had greeted them with this heady promise. "You are entering Northeastern
in a fascinating era — an era in which new scientific, medical, and social
advances can bring new dignity to mankind."21 The events of that academic
year, of the summer, and of the following fall, clearly demonstrated that
the Institution intended to do all it could to open its constituency to this
new era. The time had now come to spell out that future in detail and to
count the cost.
V
Diamond Anniversary
Development Program
TO SOME PEOPLE THE IDEA THAT HIGHER EDUCATION IS IN ANY WAY LINKED
with money is a philistinism not to be countenanced. Fortunately for
the fate of Northeastern this was not Dr. Knowles's attitude, and one of
the greatest achievements in his career as President was securing the
funds that allowed the University to develop and house the programs
that flourished under his administration. The funds were secured largely
through a $40 million Diamond Anniversary Development Program
(ultimately revised to $65,500,000), which was announced to the
community at large by Northeastern's Board of Trustees on November
15, 1961-
To this day the Diamond Anniversary Development Program — its
design, its execution, its accomplishments — stands as one of the major
events in the University's history. On the surface, as it was presented to
the public that November afternoon, the DADP plan was simply a giant
picture of a beautiful future. Quite literally, its most prominent feature
was a picture in which the then eleven existing Northeastern buildings
were flanked by a series of totally new brick and glass edifices set off
by a sward of playing fields and by a few neat dark squares representing
parking lots.
It was an astonishing projection, made even more astonishing if
70
Diamond Anniversary Development Program 71
one were acquainted with the area. Where the artist envisioned
classrooms, an indoor swimming pool, and laboratories, there were in
reality only the crumbling red brick, cold-water tenements of Ruggles
and Field Streets, an auto storage lot, and an abandoned cement factory.
Where he envisioned dormitories, there were the bulldozed remains of
the Opera House and the Boston Storage Warehouse. And where he
envisioned playing fields and parking lots, there was a tangle of unused
tracks. It is hardly any wonder that such an image captured the
imagination of press and public alike. The next day almost even- Boston
paper carried the picture, and a copy of the picture was subsequently
purchased by a local television station, which frequently displayed the
image as an emblem of the new and developing Boston.
But if the picture elicited awed response, the magnitude of the
project in sheer dollars and cents were no less startling. Between 1934
and 1959, Dr. Ell had increased the Institution's total assets from
$750,000 to approximately S30.ooo.ooo. a feat that in itself earned the
admiration of professional economists. What Dr. Knowles was now
proposing, however, and in the full glare of publicity, was to raise
almost tv\ice that amount of money and in half the time. It is no
wonder that the American City Bureau of Chicago, hired in i960 to
assess the University's fundraising potential, expressed some doubts that
such a project could ever be realized.1 One alumnus, hearing the
November 15. 1961. announcement, was seen to shake his head and
sadly proclaim, "It can never be done."
What the naysayers failed to recognize, however, was that while
the enormity of the proposed physical transformation and the amounts
of money involved might be mind-boggling, they were only the
quantitative expressions of a far more profound transformation that was
expressed in a statement of goals at the beginning of the Diamond
Anniversary Development brochure: 'By adapting to the projected
needs of the community and the changing patterns of education.
Northeastern will develop from a local college serving predominantly
undergraduate commuters who must earn while they learn to a
university emphasizing the broad educational values of the cooperative
plan at both the undergraduate and graduate levels."2 The few details
that followed filled out the idea. Northeastern would pioneer the extension
of cooperative education into other scientific and professional fields: enroll
a far larger number of undergraduate students, offer adult and continuing
education with constant expansion to serve evolving community needs,
and conduct graduate study and research complementary to its under-
graduate programs.
72 IN THE BEGINNING
It was on the achievement of these ends that the success of the
entire enterprise depended. And while the University might seem brash
in its willingness to lay itself on the line for the construction of twelve
new buildings and the raising of $40 million, it had been as a matter of
fact anything but brash in the formulation of these goals and the laying
of its plans.
For over two years prior to the November 1961 announcement, the
Office of Planning and the University's Advisory Committee on Planning
had labored mightily at the task of determining realistic goals and plotting
their potential for achievement.
Dr. Ell had left the University "a fine institution with a splendid plant
and no debt, well operated in the black . . . well organized, well-con-
ceived program of education . . . with a good deal of status in the com-
munity . . . and with the financial wind on its back."3 Dr. Knowles had
no intention of jeopardizing this situation. Nevertheless, both internal and
external pressures mandated some change.
Even before the first Master Plan for the campus was completed in
1959, a Draft Development Proposal drawn up two years earlier had shown
a clear need for more classrooms, dormitories, and laboratory facilities.
By the time the new administration took office, these needs had become
urgent. Further compounding the problem was the temper of the period:
"This was a time of rapid changes in higher education, a time when the
federal government was saying repeatedly that the welfare and future
status of our nation is identified with higher education, that we should
provide more higher education for more people, that our universities and
colleges were the great strength of our future development of the Amer-
ican free enterprise system."4 Consequently, one of the top priorities for
the new administration was determining the degree of its obligation. Could
it or should it "stand still"; could it or should it move forward toward
fulfilling those "visions" of which Dr. Knowles had spoken so eloquently
in his inaugural address?
The dilemma was not unique. Northeastern was not the only insti-
tution faced with the temptation to make heavy capital expenditures, to
say nothing of increasing its annual operating cost. Nathan Pusey in his
book American Higher Education iQ45-igyo cites some revealing
statistics:
Recognizing that a dollar could buy considerably less in 1970 than in
1945, it remains a startling fact that the amount spent annually by
Diamond Anniversary Development Program 73
colleges and universities of the United States for operating expenses
increased thirty-fold in this twenty-five-year period. The figure rose
from a prewar high of only $522 million to $16 billion. . . . [And
further] by 1950 institutions of higher education were spending at an
annual rate of Si. 4 billion for construction. ... By 1965 the rate had
reached a level of $5 billion."5
There is no reason to suppose that Northeastern could have stood aloof
from these tides under any circumstances, but the extent to which it
wished to commit itself was an open option.
That Dr. Knowles favored considerable commitment was implicit in
his inaugural address and in his actions of the first two years, but that he
did not favor it at the expense of prudence was manifest in the charge
given to the Office of Planning. As Loring Thompson, Director of the
Office, expressed it:
Strategic planning has the task of making technical analyses related
to major problems ... of identifying the realistic alternatives before
a decision is made. So often the greatest technical effort is devoted
to minor problems and there is a tendency for major decisions to be
made "off the cuff' or by the pooling of opinions. Strategic planning
permits important decisions to be more realistic and rational. It en-
ables man's fund of knowledge, resources, techniques, and designs to
be brought to bear upon the most important questions confronting
our organizations and our societies.6
In fact, what distinguished Northeastern's development plan from that
of many other contemporary institutions, which also chose to expand at
the same time but not always as successfully, was the degree to which it
was based on carefully documented data. Thus the Office had been asked
to "review technical analyses of the past trends and other characteristics
[of the Institution] so that the benefit of past experience may be utilized
for rational decisions about future activities" and to give careful consid-
eration to the present features of Northeastern that would provide a firm
foundation for future development and to consider these features in re-
lation to educational trends and development of neighboring colleges and
their educational programs.7 In other words, the Office of Planning and
the Advisory Committee had been asked to assess conditions not only as
they existed within the current Institution but also as they existed within
the context of higher education as a whole, and then to anticipate changes
in those conditions — to construct, as it were, an imagined future against
which Northeastern's possible responses could be measured before any
commitments were actually made.
It was a formidable task that any summary can only hint at. Never-
74 IN THE BEGINNING
theless, a quick glance at the files of the Office of Planning reveals that
the work included a careful study of enrollment figures not only at North-
eastern but at higher-education institutions throughout Massachusetts and
the nation at large. The Office also presented an examination of those
figures in relation to overall population and birth statistics, a projection
of the approximate number of persons who would be eligible to seek
higher education over the next ten years, and, based on these figures, a
projection in terms of trends of how many would seek admission to North-
eastern. Thus the DADP statement that Northeastern would "enroll a far
larger number of students" was no arbitrary hope, for out of these statistics
had come the prediction that by 1970 the University, were it to continue
to serve community needs, must find room to accommodate at least 9,000
full-time students, 1,000 of whom would be on the graduate level, and
20,000 part-time students.
Similarly, the statement that the future University would provide cer-
tain new programs was based on hard data. This time the Office of Planning
reduced the guess factor by posing specific questions to the various di-
visions of the University. Thus, for example, the Department of Cooper-
ative Education was asked to address itself to questions such as the
following: Can co-op jobs be provided for a student body at least twice
the size of the present one and with the same general characteristics as
the present clientele? At what rate can job opportunities be expanded
during 1960-1970, assuming an adequate staff, in (1) the Greater Boston
Area, (2) an expanded geographical area? What new fields of study would
open up new opportunities for co-op jobs? What is the potential of co-op
jobs for women students? For graduate students? What will be the effect
of graduate co-op jobs on undergraduate co-op jobs?
The faculty was asked to consider priorities in terms of research,
teaching loads, benefits, office space, and even recreation space. At the
same time a detailed list was drawn up of the contributions and services
rendered to the City of Boston by the University. The list included the
following categories: the number of students served who were residents
of the City of Boston, graduates of Boston schools, or employees of Boston
firms; the number of Boston residents employed by the University; the
contractual services purchased from the city; and the capital improve-
ments made in the area. These examples take in only a small portion of
the wide range of material that was collected and sifted before the Uni-
versity ventured to assess its position and limn out prospective programs.
The overall goals, then, declared in the November 15, 1961, DADP
announcement, which reaffirmed the University's commitment to coop-
erative and adult education and to community service, which pledged to
Diamond Anniversary Development Program 75
expand all of these areas, which projected considerable development in
research and graduate work, and which anticipated vastly increased en-
rollments, represented not some quixotic notion of what might be nice
to do but a very realistic assessment of what should and could be achieved.
Nevertheless, even though the University was not promising to be all
things to all men and even though it was only going to attempt those
projects that careful study had shown were needed and within its capa-
bilities, realistic goals alone could be no guarantee of achievement. Equally
important to the projected aims was the machinery that would bridge the
gap between desire and fulfillment.
To bridge this gap and to maximize the chance of success, the admin-
istration resorted to very basic business practices. Budgeting was the heart
of the matter. In his book on industrial management, Dr. Knowles had
written, "It is in the budget that general policies are given definite, con-
crete expression. It is in the budget also that we may look for the exact
interpretation of general statements of policy."8 This statement, as much
as anything, defined the organization of the DADP.
At issue were two problems: exactly how much money would be
needed for what, and how this money could be raised. The first problem
was largely the province of the Executive Committee and the Committee
on Facilities of the Board of Trustees, which, working in close conjunction
with the Office of Planning and the Advisory Committee on Planning, were
to determine priorities, assess costs, and make recommendations for action
to the Board of Trustees.
On November 30, 1959, the former two groups met in joint session
to review preliminary plans for development. At this time they determined
that "to achieve the long-range goals, a first priority must be given to the
continued growth and consolidation of present programs that support the
future goals."9 Attention was focused on the delineation of these needs,
on the purchase of land, and the adaptation of existing facilities to meet
existing requirements. Some early priorities such as the ROTC Armory,
a Student Health Center, and a separate on-campus Adult Education Center,
all mentioned in the first review, were subsequently dropped as the re-
shuffling of facilities or the acquisition of new properties, such as Hen-
derson House in Weston in 1961, rendered them obsolete. Other initial
priority recommendations were also changed. For example, plans for the
remodeling of the Boston Storage Warehouse at a cost of $2,500,000 gave
ways to plans for demolition and new construction when it became ap-
76 IN THE BEGINNING
parent that this was a more practical and expedient route. Cost estimates
for the entire plan were constantly revised in the light of new demands.
Originally projected at $27,000,000 in 1959, at $30,157,896 in i960, the
$40,000,000 figure of the final plan was arrived at only five days before
the November 15, 1961, announcement. And no one in the inner circle
of planning was the least surprised when at the beginning of the second
phase the estimates were revised upward again to $52,000,000 and in 1969
to $65,500,000.
Experience made the planners well aware of the need for flexibility,
and this flexibility was consequently built into the organizational pattern.
Thus three separate phases were initiated. Phase I would extend from
1961 through 1964 and have as its goal the raising of $4,500,000. Phase II
would extend through 1969 and Phase HI through 1973, when the entire
program would be achieved. Significantly, although the details of the first
phase were carefully spelled out both in terms of goals and fund raising,
the details of the last two phases were left sufficiently vague to allow for
a maximum of adaptation.
If the three-phase plan was the wisest way to deal with realistic cost
estimates, it was also the wisest way to deal with the problem of fund
raising. On the psychological level, such pauses served the purpose of
providing "rest stops" from which participants could view past accom-
plishments and gather new strength for new assaults. On the practical
level, the three-phase plan allowed for periods of reassessment, for the
calculated formulation of new plans and new goals, and/or for the reaffir-
mation of old ones, depending on what circumstances called for.
In addition to the three-phase division, the budget was also divided
according to whether projects were self-liquidating — could be completed
by borrowing capital funds that would be repaid from revenue, for ex-
ample, the student center expansion, dormitories, and parking areas — or
whether they would require additional financial resources — could be
completed only by acquiring gifts from industry, business, friends, alumni,
staff, and students, for example, endowment, land acquisition, academic
buildings, and plant improvements. The effect of this division was twofold.
Again, on the psychological level, the act of putting into a separate category
the amount that would have to be raised by the Office of Development
served to make the goals seem that much more attainable. From the
business point of view, the division served the practical end of making
clear what kind of financial resources could be tapped to what end. Within
this framework then, the task of constantly reestimating costs continued,
and the problems of fund raising began.
The machinery to carry out the fund raising of the DADP was as
carefully planned as the goals and budget. Basically it was designed to
operate on two levels. On the first level was a vast volunteer army led by
Diamond Anniversary Development Program 77
men whose national visibility, demonstrated concern for the University,
and extensive business connections would provide the wide-ranging con-
tacts and knowledge of resources, both in terms of money and manpower,
that were essential to a successful campaign. Thus, Dr. John L. Burns,
graduate of the College of Engineering ('30) and then President of the
Radio Corporation of America, was asked to serve as General Chairman
during the first phase (a responsibility he also assumed in the second
phase), and David F. Edwards, Honorary Chairman of the Saco- Lowell
Shops and Chairman of the Trustee's Committee on Development, became
the Director of the Campaign Executive Committee for the first phase.
Their duties would encompass general organization and coordination of
volunteer fundraising efforts.
At the same time, specific fundraising efforts became the responsi-
bility of five other volunteers. In the first phase, Charles C. Carey, President
of the General Radio Company, was responsible for the business and
industry segment of development, and Harold A. Mock ('25), partner in
Arthur Young and Company, was responsible for the alumni segment.
Norman C. Cahners, Chairman of the Board of Cahners Publishing Co.
Inc., assumed responsibilities for friends and associates in the first and
second phases, Earl H. Thomson ('25), Director of Thomson and Thomson,
chaired the bequests division, and Edward A. Loring, Vice President of
Gilman Brothers, Inc., chaired a special pharmacy campaign, which op-
erated during the first phase to raise funds for the new pharmacy college.
In the second and third phases some of these personnel would change.
On the death of David Edwards, Harold A. Mock assumed responsibility
as Director of the Campaign Executive Committee, and Farnham W. Smith
('24) became Chairman of the Alumni Program for the second phase, with
Donald W. Smith ('29) assuming the chair for the third phase. In addition,
as requirements changed, certain offices were discontinued. This was par-
ticularly true toward the end of the campaign when much of the final
work devolved on the Office of Development; nevertheless, the basic
twofold structure remained throughout.
Supporting these men and providing the professional foundation on
which the volunteer efforts depended was the University Office of De-
velopment. Just as the Office of Planning and the Advisory Committee on
Planning had functioned to gather material and make recommendations
to the Board of Trustees on the formulation of goals, so, too, the Office
of Development functioned to gather necessary fundraising material, make
recommendations, and to a large extent execute fundraising policies rel-
ative to the DADP.
F. Weston Prior served as Director of the Office during a large portion
of the first phase and, in fact, up until 1964 when he began to focus
exclusively on the alumni aspects of development. A creative man with
78 IN THE BEGINNING
a wide appreciation of what kind of devices would appeal to individuals
being asked for money, Mr. Prior was responsible for the highly successful
Land Share Certificate program that awarded $100 donors with certificates
recognizing their "share" of the University. Designed by Farnham W. Smith,
the certificate proved highly successful, particularly among alumni who
fondly recalled Dr. Ell's assertion that "we must have land to put our feet
on."
In the second phase Mr. Prior helped organize the Husky Associates,
a plan whereby thousand-dollar donors received a plaque embossed with
their name and a relief of the Northeastern mascot. Mr. Prior participated
in the choice of the Diamond Anniversary title, a name designed to indicate
that the program would be completed on Northeastern's seventy-fifth
anniversary. These promotional devices, however, hardly express the
scope of the Office's responsibilities, which encompassed the promotion
of giving at all levels and the organization of the official fundraising
campaign.
One of the most important aspects of this campaign was alumni giving.
Changes in the method of dealing with alumni indicate the elasticity and
imagination of all concerned with the DADP. Initially, in 1959, alumni gifts
were organized by William A. Lovely, Jr. ('58). At this time the Develop-
ment Office sought the broadest base possible of support through small
single gifts. In December 1961 these gifts topped $100,000 for the first
time. With the launching of the DADP, however, the function of the Office
was changed and modified. Attention shifted from small single gifts toward
the acquisition of large capital contributions. As a consequence, the struc-
ture of the Office also altered. Alumni gifts were now more closely iden-
tified with overall development. Mr. Lovely became Assistant Director of
Development in 1962, with a new young man, also a Northeastern graduate,
Eugene M. Reppucci, Jr. ('60) appointed to the dual role of Assistant
Director of Development and Director of Alumni Programs.
At the end of the first phase in 1964, the small gift-giving program
was reconstituted as the Alumni Annual Giving Program, and a National
Council designed to give special recognition to a small and distinguished
group of alumni was instituted. This organization, designed by Mr. Prior,
proved to be one of the most important foci of alumni activities and was
fundamental to the success of the DADP. At this point Mr. Reppucci be-
came Director of the National Council, although he also retained respon-
sibilities for general development. Still another young man, Royal K.
Toebes ('59), who had returned to Northeastern the previous year, was
appointed Director of the Alumni Giving Program.
In the third phase the Offices of Development and Alumni Giving
Diamond Anniversary Development Program 79
were again reorganized, this time into two autonomous units, with Mr.
Reppucci becoming Director of Development and Mr. Toebes, Director
of Alumni Affairs. Recognition of the importance of both these offices and
the work of their directors came when both men were appointed vice
presidents of the University in 1971 and 1972, respectively.
These facts, however, move ahead of the story. In November 1961 the
outstanding fact was that a goal of raising 8500,000 was apportioned to
the alumni, and it was on this point that the American City Bureau of
Chicago, figuring that past contributions hardly warranted such optimism,
had expressed a major concern. The Bureau, however, reasoned only from
past figures and failed to take into account the full impact that the idea
of creating a new university to their image would have on the sons and
daughters of Northeastern. Many of the alumni were relatively new. After
all, there had only been 2,400 of them in 1934 when the first development
campaign was initiated, and now there were close to 30,000 whose spirit
and resources had yet to be tapped. To penetrate this force, a massive
army of 1,700 graduates were recruited, 1,200 of whom attended an alumni
dinner and rally on April 16, 1963 — the largest such gathering in University
history. "We confidently expect to reach our $500,000 goal by the end of
June," declared Harold Mock. To achieve this end, each member of the
"army" was carefully trained and given a handbook that included, among
other injunctions, the advice to make at least two calls on every pro-
spective donor on the grounds that "You can't make a good pickle by
squirting vinegar on a cucumber; it has to soak a while." The metaphor
was a homily but it was appropriate. The process of deciding whether to
contribute — and if so, how much — can be a long one, and premature
pressuring was not to be risked.
Once trained, the army was divided into an elaborate hierarchy of
area captains, team captains, and door-to-door solicitors. Strategy was pre-
cisely calculated. For example, wherever there was a high density of alum-
ni, professional groups were brought together and the University's role
in their particular field of interest stressed. In other areas where alumni
were more scattered, a more general picture was presented, but in each
instance and at all levels it was made clear that graduates were being given
a real opportunity to express their loyalty to their alma mater. And loyal
they proved, exceeding their first goal by well over 100 percent and each
subsequent goal by equally significant amounts.
Throughout the campaign, the solicitation of alumni was to be a
massive undertaking but no more so than solicitation in other areas. In
later years Dr. Knowles was to say, "Those people who expressed concern
in the early years didn't consider that we would obtain funds from a large
80 IN THE BEGINNING
number of sources: the federal government, loans, corporations, and foun-
dations, as well as from our alumni and friends."10 It might have been
more truly said, however, that the skeptics were unaware of what one
University vice president would later call "Dr. Knowles's magic ability to
predict where money would become available and to tap that source."
If this were magic, however, it was a magic well tempered by knowl-
edge and by preparations based on that knowledge. Again and again there
appears in the minutes of the Executive Committee of the Board of Trust-
ees the formula that said in effect, "It has come to my attention that the
federal government is considering a bill that would provide funds for [and
here the relevant subject is mentioned]. ... In anticipation of the pos-
sible passage of this bill, the University would do well to draw up a proposal
for action in this field."
Nor was this formula limited to federal government plans, for Dr.
Knowles also made it his business to keep well abreast of city, community,
and foundation plans as well. The conduits for this knowledge included
the President's own reading and active participation in national, city, and
community organizations; the material gathered by the Offices of Planning
and Development; and, not least of all, the information compiled by a
Special Assistant to the President, a post variously held by John S. Bailey,
John Whitla, and Eugene M. Reppucci, Jr., each of whom was assigned in
his time — but especially at the height of federal funding appropriations —
to the task of keeping the University informed of what went on in Wash-
ington and the world, and in keeping Washington and the world informed
of what went on at the University. As a result, Northeastern was often
"magically" prepared with its plans before the ink was dry on some new
appropriation. Such magic was further expedited by the fact that Dr.
Knowles was not above calling someone, even in the middle of the night,
with an idea or perception that might promote the success of the DADP.
It is not within the scope of this chapter to discuss the achievements
of the DADP. Many of these will be highlighted in the following chapters
on academic growth and in a final chapter of physical development. What
should be clear, however, is that very little was left to chance. Even the
timing of the announcement, to say nothing of the press conference and
subsequent publicity, startling to those used to a more reticent North-
eastern, had been carefully calculated for maximum effectiveness. Thus,
for example, on November 10, 1961, Dr. Knowles had determined that
November 15 must be the announcement date, as "this will get the program
Diamond Anniversary Development Program 8 1
before the public without any further delay (which we must do) because
of similar programs of other institutions, the country's political and eco-
nomic climate, and the year-end tax planning of individuals and organi-
zations."''
In his inaugural address to the faculty and staff on September 8, 1959,
Dr. Knowles made this pledge: "We shall continue to operate this Uni-
versity on a sound financial basis, doing only those things that we can
afford to do and expanding as we have resources available. In brief, we
shall operate in the black."12 The DADP had been planned and organized
as much as humanly possible to assure that this pledge would be honored.
The extent of this planning is perhaps most clearly articulated in a letter
received from Barton-Gillet, the Baltimore publicity firm that was hired
to prepare promotional campaign literature. 'Tour presentation of North-
eastern's needs," the president of the company had written to Dr. Knowles,
"was one of the most informative and concise that I've ever encountered.
It was indeed refreshing to see the extent of the planning done by you
and your associates. Considering this unusual progress, we feel confident
in going right ahead . . "13
It was a sentiment shared by many. The DADP had made clear how
resources might be obtained and to what ends they would be allocated.
Thus, on November 15, 1961, Northeastern launched its thirteen-year
odyssey with clearly articulated plans that were designed to be fulfilled
on the seventy-fifth year following the founding of the University — the
Diamond Anniversary.
Frank Palmer Speare, Northeastern' s first President, igi6—ig4o.
83
Boston's YMCA in Copley Square in igo8 — the site of
Northeastern 's roots.
Future site of Northeastern around 1903. To the left, the Boston
Storage Warehouse; to the right, the Boston Opera House.
84
Carl S. Ell, Northeastern 's second President, ig40—ig^g.
85
Northeastern University Yard around 1940. The Boston YMCA is to
the left, the Science Building in the center, and Alumni
Auditorium (later named the Ell Center) to the right.
The Executive Council, 1958. From the left: Prof. Bateson, Dean
Everett, Prof. Schlagenhauf, Dr. Ell, Dr. White, Prof. Parsons.
86
Asa Smallidge Knowles, Northeastern 's third President, 1959- 1975-
87
President Knowles's inaugural procession, September 8, igs8.
James R Killian, Chairman of the Corporation, MIT, bestows the
lavaliere on President Knowles during inauguration ceremonies,
as Byron K Elliott, Chairman of Northeastern Corporation and
Board of Trustees, looks on.
88
The United Reality Building purchased by Northeastern in 1961.
The head table at the annual Northeastern corporation meeting
on November 10, i960. Seated from the left: Laurence H. Martin,
Treasurer; Asa S. Knowles, President; Judge Byron K Elliott,
Corporation Chairman; Frank L. Richardson, Vice-Chairman.
Standing from the left: Lincoln C. Bateson, Secretary; Earl P.
Stevenson; Russell B. Stearns; David F. Edwards; Carl S. Ell,
Chancellor; and Edward Dana
89
*»■
Loring M. Thompson Director of the Office of Planning and later
Vice President of Planning.
Northeastern 's Proposed Development Plan, unveiled during
announcement of the Diamond Anniversary' Development
Program on November 15, ig6i.
90
Presentation of a Northeastern University Land Share Certificate, a
device used in the first phase of the Diamond Anniversary
Development Program to promote giving. From the left: Theodore
R. Perry '.32, Asa S. Knouies, and Harold Mock '2,3.
Henderson House, acquired by Northeastern in 1961.
91
PART TWO
ACADEMIC
EXPANSION
VI
Founding and Development
of University College
The Diamond Anniversary Development Program, with its bold plan to
amass $40 million and change the face of Northeastern, opened on a
note of vigorous optimism. As one administrator remarked, "It was not
a question of what we could do — we could do anything — it was a
question of what we would do."1
Although in 1961 much of the federal legislation that was to make
the 1960s the "Golden Age of Higher Education" had yet to be enacted,
it was abundantly clear that the new Congress and President Kennedy
favored liberal allocations for this "national resource." In the meantime,
federal money — particularly for student loans under the 1958 National
Defense Act and for research under a host of special interest bills — was
readily available. Thus, the most vexatious problem facing many higher
education institutions in the early 1960s was not where to get funds but
how much to accept and under what program.
The temptation to chase every federal dollar offered from Washing-
ton was omnipresent, but giving in could have pulled the Institution in
a multitude of directions inconsistent with long-range goals, and bank-
ruptcy might easily follow on beneficence. Northeastern had protected
itself against such unfortunate eventualities by carefully constructing the
Diamond Anniversary Development Program, which assured that the
95
96 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
University's efforts would be channeled in a particular direction. The plan
reinforced Northeastern's commitment to well-tried traditions of coop-
erative education, adult education, and community service as well as to
fiscal responsibility; it also provided firm internal restraints. Although Dr.
Knowles was anxious to transform Northeastern into a multifaceted major
universitv. his actions toward this end were carefully controlled. Nowhere
was this restraint more apparent than in the kind of undergraduate col-
leges that the Institution developed during the 1960s. University College,
the first of these units, although it preceded the announcement of the
Diamond Anniversary Development Program by almost two years, never-
theless perfectly expressed in its concept and execution the goals of that
program.
As the decade of the sixties opened, pressure throughout the country
to expand enrollment and subsequently to design programs to accom-
modate these increases was tremendous. In 1950, 1,851 colleges and uni-
versities in the United States accommodated 2,639,021 students. By i960,
although only 157 institutions had been added, enrollment had catapulted
to 3,215,544, and projections for 1970 were double that. Despite these
statistics, Northeastern declared as early as November 1959 that "the rapid
growth of undergraduate enrollment during the past few decades will be
deliberately slowed down. The admission of freshmen will be on a more
selective basis. . . . The University will concentrate upon a higher level
of instruction and the extension of the cooperative work program into
graduate education. The evening offerings will be expanded into a broader
adult and continuing education program with a variety of offerings in both
day and evening hours."2 The significant point here is not that the Uni-
versity intended to place limits on undergraduate enrollment but that it
accorded priority to improved instruction, to adult education, and to the
Cooperative Plan of Education. The establishment of University College
gave a concrete dimension to the first of these two priorities.
As indicated in Chapter III, the first consideration in the founding of
the new college was the need to achieve accreditation for the College of
Business Administration, which could be accomplished only by abolishing
the Evening School of Business and incorporating its programs into the
new entity of University College. In addition, Northeastern was committed
to upgrading the status of its evening and adult programs, which demanded
a reorganization of the Evening Division. To effect these ends, University
College was opened in the fall of i960.
Founding and Development of University College 97
In the next fifteen years, five deans were to serve the College: Albert
E. Everett, appointed in the dual capacity of Dean of University College
and Dean of the Office of Continuing Education, i960— 1961; Albert Hanson,
first permanent, full-time Dean of University College, 1961-1963; Lawrence
Allen, 1963-1966; John S. Bailey, Acting Dean, 1966-1967, Dean, 1967-1970;
and Kenneth W. Ballou, 1970—1977. Although each dean was to encounter
different problems related to the particular stage of development that the
College had achieved at a particular time, each was deeply committed to
the basic philosophy that "education, to be truly realistic in serving the
needs of adults, must be flexible, unrestricted by traditional approaches,
and accept one's total education as resulting from many contributing
factors."3 Thus, adaptability and innovation became the hallmarks of the
College.
Under Dean Everett the College opened with four types of programs:
those requiring 130 credit hours and leading to a Bachelor of Science
degree with majors in Accounting, Management, Technology, and Liberal
Arts; those requiring 60 hours and leading to an associate's degree in the
same fields; those requiring a minimum of 30 hours offered through "in-
stitutes," ranging from the Institute for Credit and Finance to the Real
Estate Institute and leading to a certificate; and those described in the
1960—61 catalog as special "on-campus courses, seminars, conferences,
and forums — usually [offered] cooperatively with professional societies,
trade associations or civic agencies — to communicate information about
current trends and the ongoing needs of a changing society."4 Within
these categories, courses cut across traditional subject matter areas, es-
tablishing as a standard relevance to adult students and abjuring the notion
of simply duplicating day college offerings.
Also under Dr. Everett University College developed a unique ad-
mission system — an open admissions policy that enabled any adult with
a high school diploma or the equivalent to have a try at undergraduate
education. The fifth Dean, Kenneth W. Ballou expressed it this way: "Tra-
ditional mechanisms such as rank in class, College Board scores and the
like are completely irrelevant in the world of adult education, and we
strongly feel that any adult should be able to try on a college education
for size with minimum restrictions."5
Dean Ballou's statement appropriately echoed that of Dr. Speare al-
most fifty years earlier. "Northeastern will never be orthodox . . . but
will seek to give to every eager boy and man an opportunity to appreciate
and obtain the best things in life."6
Nevertheless, because the College was also committed to a uniformity
in degree standards, admission did not automatically mean matriculation.
98 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
Rather, the College categorized all students as special or nonmatriculated
until each earned forty credit hours (twenty courses). If a C average was
maintained, then the student could be officially accepted into a degree-
granting program with appropriate note taken of his previous work. Such
a plan, if it was nontraditional for other institutions, was paradoxically
very much in keeping with Northeastern's own tradition — "a place easy
to get into, but hard to get out of."
University College's unorthodoxy also touched its scheduling prac-
tices. In an effort to satisfy the needs of "every eager boy and man" and,
later, every eager woman, the College gave up the traditional notion that
courses must be offered in conventional three-hour-a-week sessions spread
over the conventional semester. Instead, the College adopted a time sched-
ule specifically tailored to the needs of students whose busy lives might
not allow them a commitment of three evenings for study or even a
commitment of fifteen weeks. Many courses were redesigned so that ma-
terial could be covered in one-hundred-minute periods offered once a
week or in intense four-to-six week sessions.
In keeping with the same principle — that convenience was of greater
moment than tradition — the College also abandoned the notion that a
university course required a university setting. Parking as well as city
traffic had been a continuing problem on the urban campus. Partially to
circumvent the traffic problem and partially to cut down on the com-
muting time of suburban students, Dr. Everett conceived the idea of bring-
ing courses to the students. Initially the idea was implemented on a fairly
informal basis. For example, in the early 1960s Weston High School was
rented to house certain evening business courses that would later be
offered on the Burlington campus, and in 1961 Northeastern used the
facilities of Henderson House for the first time to conduct a National
Police seminar. Later this idea would become formalized as the satellite
campus system.
When Dr. Hanson took over as full-time Dean of University College
in the fall of 1961, the general characteristics of the College were already
in place. Dean Hanson's major task was to expand and consolidate these
ideas in accordance with the demands of his constituency. Although the
College had begun as an evening institution largely designed to satisfy the
needs of adult, part-time students, the administration was not insistent
that this remain the limit of its function. Thus in the fall of 1962 when
Forsyth Dental Center became affiliated with Northeastern and when Mas-
sachusetts General Hospital's School of Nursing began to send its students
to Northeastern for training in nonnursing courses, University College
assumed administrative responsibility for the day programs that would
Founding and Development of University College 99
serve these younger students. As a consequence, by 1963 the statement
in the University College catalog declaring that the College had been
designed "to meet the particular needs of adults desiring formal programs
of professional development on a part-time basis" was expanded to read
"or of young people enrolled in professional schools affiliated with
Northeastern.""'
Under Dr. Hanson the curriculum of the College also underwent
considerable revision. The program in Technology, for example, was
dropped, and many of its classes were assumed by Lincoln Institute. At
the same time, a Department of Law Enforcement and Security was added,
the feeling being that it was more appropriate to the scope of University
College. During the same period, in the interest of accreditation standards,
the associate degree was limited to Management and Accounting, and an
Associate in Arts degree (AA.) requiring seventy-two hours was intro-
duced. Plans were also made to drop the sixty-hour associate degree
altogether (accomplished by 1964) and to introduce a seventy-two hour
Associate in Science degree offering, while the description of special
courses was changed to read "single courses or special programs are
available for the special student."8 The point here, however, is not the
details but the recognition of University College's continuing adherence
to the principle of flexibility, to the idea that any change could be coun-
tenanced as long as it was in accordance with the criteria of maintaining
academic standards and of meeting individual student and community
needs.
In 1963 Dr. Hanson retired. Under the new Dean, Lawrence Allen,
curriculum was further expanded and reorganized into the basic depart-
ments of Liberal Arts, Business Administration, and Law Enforcement Cor-
rection and Security, categories that still existed in 1975. Even more
significant was the introduction of health programs, destined to become
one of the largest units of the College (see Chapter XII), and the formal-
ization of the satellite campus system.
Up to this point Northeastern's idea of bringing courses to the students
had been pursued on a fairly eclectic basis, with no particular consistency
either in the use of facilities or in the number and kind of programs that
might be provided from year to year. By 1965, however, it was clear that
the idea answered a deep need in the community, and this year, then,
marks the real beginning of Northeastern's satellite campus system. Under
Dr. Allen facilities in two high schools, one in Framingham and a second
in Weymouth, were contracted for on a relatively permanent basis with
comprehensive evening programs planned for each. In the course of the
next decade, other high school facilities were rented, and the system
lOO ACADEMIC EXPANSION
flourished so that by 1975 fully 40 percent of all University College students
were attending classes in several facilities outside the Boston area.9 During
the same period other universities began to emulate the idea, and the
notion of satellites, which had been a maverick educational concept in
the Boston of 1965, had become a major higher education practice.
It was also under Dr. Allen that the full potential of the suburban
campus in Burlington for University College programs began to be realized.
The total effect of this ex-urban expansion was not only to add to University
College's constituency but also to make possible a whole new raft of
programs that initially could not have been instituted without such ac-
cessibility. Outstanding among these programs were the ones for women.
Thus, long before women's liberation became the catch phrase of the
decade, University College had taken the initiative by providing courses
at convenient locations and at convenient hours that would allow house-
wives to update their skills, prepare for reentry into the job market, and
still be home in time to greet their children from school or to fix dinner.
These programs, largely developed by Administrative Assistant Virginia
Bullard of the Adult Program staff, became so successful that, ironically,
location soon ceased to be a prime consideration. By 1967, in response
to demand, similar part-time day programs were begun on the Boston
campus as well. The real emblem of University College's achievements,
however, came in November 1965, when it was accepted for membership
by the National University Extension Associates, one of the most influential
adult educational professional associations.10
At the end of the academic year 1965—66, Dr. Allen resigned to assume
a position at the University of Kentucky. Professor John S. Bailey, then
Director of Public Relations, was appointed Acting Dean and approved as
Dean in 1967. Under his vigorous leadership and that of his successor,
Kenneth W. Ballou (1970—1977), the College's commitment to keeping
"pace with the changing needs and interests of its students and commu-
nity" was interpreted to mean not only an increase in the number of
programs, their scope, variety, and academic excellence but also an in-
crease in their general availability.
During these years both traditional and professionally oriented pro-
grams grew to the point where in 1971 alone there were 90,000 course
registrations. Imagination, innovation, flexibility, and, most of all, response
to community needs were the touchstones dictating the selection of
courses. Thus programs tailored to meet the needs of women returning
to the job market expanded, and in the mid-1960s special business courses
Founding and Development of University College 101
to meet the emerging needs of black entrepreneurs were added, with
Martin Luther King, Jr. scholarships becoming available to help allay the
cost for black, part-time students.
The professional programs that were developed at this time also dem-
onstrated responsiveness to a wide variety of needs. They included a major
in music designed specifically for professional musicians who felt the need
for more theoretical training. Course offerings, which were as diverse as
"The Life and Works of J. S. Bach" and "Jazz Evolution and Essence," led
to a degree under the liberal arts wing of the College. At the other end
of the professional spectrum were majors in transportation, and security
and corrections. One of the fastest growing areas, however, was health
science, and by 1975 the College was offering associate degrees in Res-
piratory Therapy, Radiological Technology; a bachelor's in Medical Tech-
nology, Cytotechnology, Medical Record Science, Management of Health
Agencies and Institutions; and certification programs in Nursing Home
Administration as well as a unique eighteen-month physician's assistant
course.
At the same time, traditional part-time programs also expanded, lead-
ing to the associate's or bachelor's degree in almost forty fields of study.
In spite of the rapid growth and wide choice of programs available in the
late 1960s and early 1970s, the criteria for course selection remained
basically the same as they had been at the inception of the College —
suitability to the needs of older professional students. Thus, in 1970 Uni-
versity College rejected a proposed hotel administration course on the
grounds that it was not suitable for older University College students.
The growth in program offerings was accompanied by a growth in
availability. An important innovation here was a broadening of the ad-
missions' policy to allow results of a new College Level Examination Pro-
gram (CLEP) to be submitted for admission consideration. CLEP, initiated
by the College Entrance Examination Board in the late 1960s, tested knowl-
edge acquired through nontraditional as well as traditional means, but
although CLEP opened the door to many new students, in the opinion of
University College administrators, it did not go far enough. To accom-
modate other students, then, who might be qualified for college study but
whose area of interest was not covered by a CLEP examination, the College
introduced a program in the fall of 1972 whereby an adult enrolled in
liberal arts courses at University College could petition to receive credit
for noncollegiate experience. Thus, for example, a person who had been
working for some time as a bookkeeper might offer that experience as
102 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
the equivalent of formal training in accounting, with up to sixteen hours
of such credit being allowed in Liberal Arts. Both of these innovations
were very much in keeping with University College's commitment to
making undergraduate education as available as possible to students who
might be cut off from such experience were the College to follow more
orthodox admission policies.
Availability also meant physical availability, and by the early 1970s the
satellite system had extended beyond Framingham and Weymouth with
educational facilities being used in Lynn, Reading, Lynnfield, Bourne, Ayer,
Springfield, Hanscom Air Force Base in Bedford, or wherever demand
warranted. By 1975 Haverhill, Boxford, Norwood, and Milford had been
added to the roster of off-campus locations, which at one time or another
were used to provide University College programs.
As more and more classes were scheduled in locations that were
accessible to the suburban as well as the urban community, more day
programs were added. One, dubbed "on site academies" by the Associate
Dean of Allied Health Science, John Schermerhorn, allowed University
College teachers to travel to specified hospitals, where they offered ac-
credited courses in nonnursing subjects to students enrolled in nursing
schools that were not themselves accredited to provide such programs. * 1
Simultaneously, day offerings had grown to accommodate not only
younger students and women but others as well. By 1971 the College
catalog was mentioning "Adult Day Programs," courses offered Monday
through Friday, nine to five, "to meet the needs of adults with family or
other obligations who wish to engage in part-time study during the
day. . . . Adult Day Programs also offer daytime workshops and confer-
ences, sometimes over weekends, with the option for credit." During the
same period, full-time courses were also introduced. In 1970 350 students
were enrolled full time, and by 1975 that number had increased to 950. 12
The founding of University College had been a bold and innovative
response to a particular Northeastern problem. The subsequent growth
of the College from 4,000 students and 300 part-time faculty in i960, to
12,000 students and 700 part-time faculty in 1975, was a testament to the
timeliness and validity of that response.13 By 1971 the College had achieved
such importance to the total structure of the University that when en-
rollments began to decline as the result of recession, Dr. Knowles re-
marked that too great a decline would have a disastrous effect not only
on the financial picture of the College but on the University as a whole.
Founding and Development of University College 103
Such a decline, however, did not take place and enrollments stabilized.
Indeed, as the 1970s unrolled, as money tightened, and as traditional col-
leges began to feel the pinch of belt tightening, more and more institutions
began to emulate Northeastern.
In the early 1960s, an adult evening college that dared to offer pro-
grams that did not duplicate traditional day college offerings but cut across
subject matter areas to meet the particular needs of adults may have been
a maverick, but by the late 1970s, as birth rates dropped and retrenchment
became the key word, those same programs proved to be the pacesetter
for survival. In such a fashion, then, the history of University College may
be seen in a sense to recapitulate in miniature the entire history of North-
eastern University itself.
VII
Addition of Four Basic
Colleges
The immediate problem of accreditation had dictated the establishment
of University College; no such urgency, however, mandated the
founding of the four new basic day colleges that were to follow shortly
after. Upon assuming office, Dr. Knowles had pledged that the
University would "achieve her destiny." To a man whose fierce energies
and ambitions had always been tempered by a shrewd judgment, this
promise meant one thing: the University must grow but not in mere
size. As stated in the previous chapter, any institution in the early 1960s
had the potential for doubling or even tripling its enrollment simply by
opening its doors. Dr. Knowles, however, was too astute a businessman
to equate mere numbers with real growth. As he was well aware,
American society in 1961 was on the verge of enormous changes. True
growth, he reasoned, should reflect these changes as well as an
increased college-age population. His instincts were further buttressed
by Northeastern's tradition of responding to community need, of
extending its Cooperative Plan of Education into totally new areas, and
of venturing only into those fields that appeared financially responsible.
In practice these policies meant that much of the University's
growth in the 1960s would come from developing cooperative colleges
that trained young men and women in service professions, which Dr.
104
Addition of Four Basic Colleges 105
Knowles had identified as "the fastest developing segments of the
economy,"1 and which pending legislation suggested might be fiscally
viable. Thus, within a space of six years Northeastern was to double its
roster of basic colleges. If such proliferation seems astounding, and
indeed there were those who felt the University was catapulting ahead
at breakneck speed, the wisdom of Dr. Knowles's policy was amply
demonstrated when in 1971 the recession in engineering and subsequent
attrition in enrollment was more than offset by the growth in the new
units — indeed in 1973 one-third of the entering class was enrolling in the
new colleges.
l
THE COLLEGE OF PHARMACY, 1962
In retrospect, the merger of the New England College of Pharmacy,
which was the first of these units, stands as one of the last examples of
how business could be conducted in an earlier and simpler age. On Feb-
ruary 21, 1961, Dr. LeRoy C. Keagle, President of the New England College
of Pharmacy, had telephoned Dr. Knowles to discuss the possibility of
"affiliation between our two institutions," thus setting in motion the pro-
cess that was to culminate only a few months later in Board approval of
the merger between the two institutions. In fact, by May 17, 1961, Dr.
Knowles would announce to all members of the faculty and administrative
staff that "it has been agreed that what is now the New England College
of Pharmacy will become the College of Pharmacy of Northeastern
University."2
Within five years such expeditious action would no longer be possible
because of the evolution of Northeastern's governance, which included
a strong and deliberative Faculty Senate. This is not to render judgment
on either period but only to recognize that the kind of rapid expansion
Northeastern experienced in the early 1960s was very much the conse-
quence of certain internal administrative conditions in conjunction with
specific external opportunities. A change in either one of these factors
would, and did, dramatically affect the development of the Institution. In
1961, however, the response to Dr. Keagle's query was not, "What will
the faculty think of this idea?" but only, "Does this Institution conform to
our objectives? Can it pay for itself?" The answer to both these questions
was yes.
The New England College of Pharmacy was a full-fledged, accredited
college with a well-qualified professional faculty, which was, in a sense,
trapped in two venerable buildings on Beacon Hill, one of which formerly
106 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
housed the Boston University Theological School. These buildings, al-
though historical gems that had been designed by Richard Upjohn, ar-
chitect of the famous Trinity Church in New York City, had defied any
attempts toward modernization. Thus, President Keagle, noting the trend
among schools of pharmacy toward membership in a university com-
munity, had made the decision to discontinue the school as an independent
unit and, after a brief survey of local institutions, had decided to approach
Northeastern as the university most sympathetic to the professional aims
of his college.
Dr. Knowles, on his part, viewed the idea of a merger as a logical step
toward the achievement of Northeastern's own goals and objectives. At
the University of Toledo he had become familiar with the problems con-
tingent on administering a college of pharmacy and was, therefore, work-
ing on familiar territory. Following Dr. Keagle's call, he appointed a faculty
committee to study the idea.3 Under the watchful marble eyes of ancient
Boston University theologians, whose Victorian images dotted the school,
the committee examined the College's records and facilities. In short order
they concluded that the Pharmacy curriculum was ( 1 ) ideal for adaptation
to the Cooperative Plan of Education, (2) was consistent with Northeast-
ern's growing interest in health service professions, and (3) would fit in
nicely with the University's already existing programs, effectively aug-
menting the existing departments of Chemistry and Biology.
The faculty committee further determined that a pharmacy college
would have the potential to develop graduate and research programs,
which Dr. Knowles had determined should be a requisite for any new
unit. The committee also decided that the New England College of Phar-
macy was a financially sound proposition because it was debt free and had
assets, including buildings, equipment, and development funds, amounting
to roughly $325,000. Although these funds would not cover the cost of
constructing two new laboratories that would be required for the College's
operation, the faculty committee reasoned that additional funds could be
raised for the support of a pharmacy program that might not otherwise
be available to Northeastern. They also reasoned that a goal of raising from
$250,000 to $500,000 might legitimately be made a condition of merger.4
After carefully examining these considerations, a tentative plan of
merger was drawn up, and on May 12, 1961, a brief three months after the
initial phone call, the Executive Committee of the Board of Trustees ap-
proved in principle the idea of a corporate merger between Northeastern
University and the New England College of Pharmacy to take place in the
summer of 1961. Thus, with scarcely a ripple, the first new basic college
since the establishment of the College of Education in 1954 opened as a
Addition of Four Basic Colleges 107
full-fledged, fully accredited, fully staffed unit of the University in the fall
of 1962.
The advantages that would accrue to Northeastern by the addition of a
College of Pharmacy have been cited above. These advantages now became
the blueprint according to which the College would develop. The first
task confronting the administration after the signing of the merger was to
adapt the pharmacy curriculum, which required 155 weeks of academic
work and generally took five years in a conventional college, to North-
eastern's Cooperative Plan of Education without extending the time re-
quired to earn a degree. The solution was quickly effected when
Northeastern, with its customary flexibility, agreed to modify its plan to
allow the pharmacy students to begin their cooperative work in the middle
of the third year and to terminate halfway through their senior year.5 The
College of Pharmacy thus opened and was the first in the nation to be
conducted on the Cooperative Plan of Education.
In the fall of 1964, the College of Pharmacy claimed still another first
when it admitted twelve qualified pharmacists with Bachelor of Science
degrees into a two-year, cooperative program leading to the Master of
Science. At the same time, a new research program "to keep the members
of the faculty research-minded and ... to attract additional research
scientists" was initiated, thereby fulfilling the earlier expectation that the
College had the potential to develop research and graduate programs.6
It was indeed a period of happy fulfillment and cooperation. The
dedication of the University and College to "make a distinctive contri-
bution to the field of pharmaceutical education"7 manifested itself in a
rapidly expanding curriculum that allowed the College to reorganize itself
within three years into three, instead of two, professional departments:
(1) Pharmacy and Pharmacy Administration, (2) Medicinal Chemistry, and
(3) Pharmacology and Pharmacognosy. The following year, the College
further extended its efforts by offering programs through the Center for
Continuing Education. A one-day seminar, for instance, in pharmaceutical
problems relating to Medicare attracted 250 participants. Two, eight-week
workshops, one in pharmacy management and another on therapeutics,
were also successful.
In 1968, however, after six years of almost total control of its own
affairs, the College of Pharmacy suffered its first major setback in its re-
lations with the University. Dr. Keagle, a soft-spoken, meticulous man,
highly dedicated to his profession, had designed a new undergraduate
program leading to the Doctor of Pharmacy degree. Sent through appro-
priate administrative channels to the Board of Trustees, the degree plan
108 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
was approved, only to be rejected later by the Faculty Senate, which
"deplores and opposes the use of the word 'doctor' in any undergraduate
degree title."8 In vain, Dr. Keagle protested that the Doctor of Pharmacy
degree was awarded by comparable colleges throughout the country, but
the Faculty Senate was adamant on an issue that it felt touched the aca-
demic credibility of the entire Institution. For Dr. Knowles, a strong sup-
porter of the proposed professional degree, the decision was particularly
ironic, for one of his first moves in office had been to encourage the
establishment of the Faculty Senate on grounds that collegiality would
strengthen the University. Now, in the late 1960s, that organization was
impeding the institution of another program that he also felt would
strengthen Northeastern. It was an irony that could not have been lost on
the strong-minded President.
In spite of this setback, the College of Pharmacy continued to experience
a slow but steady growth, with enrollment increasing from the initial 205
students in 1962 to 297 in 1968 to 480 in 1970.9 Then in 1971, almost a
decade to the day after the New England College of Pharmacy had become
legally merged with Northeastern, the College underwent still another
transformation by becoming the College of Pharmacy and Allied Health
Professions. (See Chapter XII.)
The change, which represented a consolidation of the University's
rapidly proliferating health science programs, also represented a compro-
mise between the administration, which supported the establishment of
a separate health sciences college, and particular faculty members who
were reluctant to cede authority over their own programs. In this sense,
the College again reflected a fundamental shift in the decision-making
process. No longer was it possible to determine the course of events, as
it were, by phone. By 1970, deliberation and consultation had become an
important part of University procedure. But if Dr. Knowles regretted the
loss of simpler days, he was wise enough to compromise gracefully, and
the newly named College, modeled on a similar college at Temple Uni-
versity in Pennsylvania, went into operation in the fall of 1971.
Designed to avert the problem of overlapping programs and the chaos
of vertical development in fields that were naturally allied, the new struc-
ture meant that academic jurisdiction over all programs in pharmacy and
in the allied health professions offered by University and Lincoln Colleges
would be under a single administration. This administration would also
serve in an advisory capacity for related programs in the Center for Con-
tinuing Education. The budget for the health sciences remained separate
from the pharmacy budget to ensure continuity in each area of endeavor,
Addition of Four Basic Colleges 109
but an associate dean, who would be responsible for the coordination and
development of the educational programs in the health areas, would report
to the Dean of the College. Collective faculty action was to take place for
such purposes as recommending candidates for degrees, for dealing with
matters having a direct and substantial impact on both pharmacy and the
allied health professions, and for all other matters requiring full faculty
action.
The compromise was not the perfect solution. As late as 1973, a
separate College of Allied Health Professions was still being considered,
but in spite of some reservations, the newly consolidated College flour-
ished. By 1975 the original two-department College of Pharmacy, serving
205 students and offering only the Bachelor of Science degree, had ex-
panded to a seven-department College of Pharmacy and Allied Health
Professions, serving 1,273 undergraduate students and 328 full- and part-
time graduate students and offering four separate degrees ranging from
the Associate of Science to the doctorate.10 The newest addition to the
roster of Northeastern's professional colleges had weathered its conflicts,
had exceeded the goals set for it some thirteen years earlier, and had come
of age.
2
THE COLLEGE OF NURSING, 1964
The addition of the College of Pharmacy had been a major step in
what was to become one of Northeastern's most important commit-
ments— a commitment to high-quality education in the health-related
professions. Its development was also illustrative of how changes could
be effected and additions made in an earlier and simpler age when an
administrative decision might easily be consonant with an administrative
action. Having perceived that the health-related professions were some
of the fastest-growing professions in the United States (between 1950 and
i960 alone, the number of persons involved in this area had grown by 54
percent11), knowing that in Boston, with its high concentration of health
institutions, health service constituted a major industry, and observing
that the federal government was in the process of formulating legislation
pertinent to health care, Northeastern's administration had begun as early
as i960 to encourage the University's departments to develop relevant
curricula. (See Chapter XII.) The merger with the New England College
of Pharmacy had thus simply been one aspect of a general policy. At the
same time, and consistent with the same policy, the University also began
to consider an even bolder move — that of opening its own College of
HO ACADEMIC EXPANSION
Nursing. But whereas the merger may be seen as a tribute to Northeastern's
ability to act swiftly and expeditiously in the pursuit of its goals, the
development of the College of Nursing must be seen as a tribute to its
ability to be stubborn and tenacious toward the same end.
The first steps leading to the development of Northeastern's College of
Nursing have been very concisely summed up in a case study by A. Gerald
Renthal and Marguerite Brown, "Cooperative Planning for a New School
of Nursing I," in Health Services Administration, Roy Penchansky, ed.
(Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1968). The following sum-
mary of the College's background relies heavily on this scholarly source,
which should be consulted by anyone interested in more background
detail. As the authors of this study point out, the genesis of the College
can actually be traced to the winter of 1959. At that time the directors of
nursing at Boston's six major nursing schools (Massachusetts General,
Peter Bent Brigham, Children's Hospital Medical Center, Beth Israel, New
England Deaconess, and New England Baptist) undertook an intense sta-
tistical examination of their facilities, which in 1961 led to the recom-
mendation that local higher education institutions should provide programs
to augment those being offered in hospital schools. Shortly after, the awk-
wardly named but highly influential Nurses Group of the Professional
Subcommittee of the Harvard Hospital Planning Committee issued a report
incorporating the initial recommendation and coming to the following
three conclusions that were to have a profound effect on the future of
Northeastern:12
1 . A combined school comprising existing hospital schools is feasible
and practical;
2. Nursing education should be conducted under the auspices of an
educational institution rather than a hospital;
3. The success of nursing education rests heavily on a flexibility that
will facilitate the transfer from one kind of educational program
to the other (i.e., from associate degree to baccalaureate degree
program.
During the next several months, following the issuance of this report,
the Nursing Group met to consider ways in which they might implement
their findings. From these meetings came the general agreement that if
a new school of nursing were to be established, it should be under the
aegis of a higher education institution and that, because of their proximity
to the hospitals in question, Boston University and Northeastern would
be the most logical choices. As a consequence, Dean Henry Meadow of
Addition of Four Basic Colleges 1 1 1
the Harvard Medical School sent a copy of the Nursing Group report to
both these institutions, with an invitation to express their ideas. Boston
University was heavily favored to house such a school as it already had
a medical college and an operative nursing program.
As these events were unfolding, and quite independently of the Nurs-
ing Group, Miss Ruth Sleeper, Director of Nurses at Massachusetts General
Hospital (MGH) and a nationally known figure in her field, had begun
separate negotiations with Northeastern for an "alternate program" of
nursing education. Under this program students recruited by MGH, but
subject to the approval of Northeastern, would study academic subjects
at the University and concurrently learn nursing techniques at the hospital.
After three years of study, they would earn a diploma from the MGH
School of Nursing, but credit would be allowed by Northeastern toward
an Associate of Science or a Bachelor of Science degree from that Insti-
tution. In the late spring the National League of Nursing, an august body
on whose say all nursing program accreditation depended, gave its ap-
proval for what it termed "an experiment," and the program began in the
fall of 1962 with forty-four students.
In the meantime, Northeastern, undaunted by the evident favor being
accorded Boston University and well aware that a full-fledged college of
nursing, especially one in collaboration with the Harvard Teaching Hos-
pitals, would go a long way toward assuring its own professional reputation,
was deeply involved in formulating plans for just such a college. And, on
July 20, 1962, Dr. William White, Provost of Northeastern, "most ably
presented a program for consideration."13
The Northeastern plan, which carefully followed the guidelines sug-
gested by the Nursing Group report, was modeled on the experimental
Rutgers University School of Nursing. Essentially, the plan was a five-year
cooperative program based on the "ladder system," according to which
students would complete two years of study to qualify for an associate
degree and a registered nurse's certificate and then could either become
full-time registered nurses or continue study for a degree of Bachelor of
Science in Nursing, which would be conferred after an additional three
years of cooperative work and study.
Although the plan "presented some problems," as Dr. Lee of Beth
Israel was to recall later, Northeastern "looked good from the beginning"
and, in addition, the cooperative attitude of the Northeastern officials was
seen as "an enormous contrast" to the attitude of the Boston University
officials who, it seemed, either "did not understand" what the Nursing
Group was trying to accomplish or "would not go along with them."14 By
November 1962 it had, in fact, become quite clear that nothing could be
112 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
worked out with Boston University and hence, Northeastern became the
only contender for the establishment of the new college.
Unfortunately, however, this apparent triumph in no way guaranteed
that the college would actually be created. There were, for example,
reservations expressed by certain members of the Harvard Hospital Plan-
ning Committee. "I am not satisfied in my own mind that the two-year
program with its emphasis on undergraduate subjects is preparing the
student with sufficient nursing knowledge to be the kind of bedside nurse
we need," wrote Dr. Walker of Peter Bent Brigham Hospital on October
8, 1962. 15 Northeastern officials, however, were determined to construct
an acceptable plan. President Knowles and Dr. White thus presented a
revised version of the plan embodying a substantial reduction in the se-
mester hours devoted to general education and a corresponding increase
in those devoted to nursing training.
At this junction, and much to the dismay of Miss Sleeper, who had
been working in close conjunction with Northeastern, questions were
suddenly posed as to the "accreditation status" and "educational standards"
of Northeastern. One Nursing Group member actually wondered aloud
if Northeastern was not perhaps more "vocationally" than "professionally"
oriented. The University had, however, a staunch ally in Miss Sleeper, who
countered that to the contrary, the University was a "rapidly growing
institution." She cited as evidence material that Dr. White had sent her in
connection with the currently operating MGH-NU Nursing Program. In
this material Dr. White had listed the several educational and professional
agencies that had accorded accreditation to Northeastern and the ten
honor societies that had chapters there. He had further stated, "We are
prepared to cooperate with you in this program so that it fully meets the
Hospital School accrediting requirements of the National League of Nurs-
ing Education."16
The evidence of Northeastern's ability, good faith, and cooperation
was accepted, and on December 13, 1962, the Nursing Group arrived at
the "concensus . . . that Northeastern University offered the greatest
promise because of its future potentials of academic and physical growth,
its flexibility, and its opportunity to meet the goals of the Group through
past experience with somewhat similar programs."17 And still, the actual
founding of the College lay in the future.
Deliberations continued throughout the winter and early spring with
some minor setbacks — for example, the National League of Nursing ex-
pressed reservations about the "ladder plan," necessitating still another
revision in the curriculum. A potentially major setback occurred on April
2, 1964, at a meeting of the six hospitals when members were asked for
Addition of Four Basic Colleges 113
the first time if they would affiliate with Northeastern; only Beth Israel
agreed without reservation. Fortunately, however, Miss Sleeper was able
to prevail on her own institution to reverse this unexpected defection,
and on May 3, 1963, the Executive Committee of the Northeastern Board
of Trustees approved in principle "the proposal for a Cooperative College
of Nursing to be established with the active collaboration of the Beth
Israel and Massachusetts General Hospital."18 The following month, all
papers having been duly signed, Northeastern was finally able to announce
that in the fall of 1964 it would open a new College of Nursing, the first
and only one in the country to operate on the Cooperative Plan of
Education.
If the problems attendant on the opening of the College of Nursing had
seemed at the time to call on the full reserves of patience, determination,
and administrative skills of Dr. Knowles, Provost White, and the Faculty
Committee, they pale when contrasted with some of the problems that
were to surface during the College's early development. Prime among
these was the issue of accreditation.
Between the announcement of the College's formation and its actual
opening, events unrolled smoothly. Dr. Charlotte Voss, a member of the
faculty of Western Reserve University School of Nursing and Director of
the School of Nursing at Cleveland Metropolitan General Hospital, a
woman with considerable administrative experience and an excellent rep-
utation in her field, was prevailed on to accept the appointment of Dean
of the new College. Under her direction a faculty of seven very able "nurse
educators" was recruited. At the same time, the curriculum was again
revised. Under the new plan the "ladder system" was finally abandoned
on the grounds that "you can't superimpose a B.A. program on a diploma
program."19 In its stead, Northeastern adopted two separate programs: a
three-year cooperative associate degree program to be introduced Sep-
tember 1964 and a five-year cooperative bachelor degree program to be
begun as soon as resources allowed. In the meantime, Children's Hospital
Medical Center joined with Massachusetts General and Beth Israel Hos-
pitals to make their clinical resources available and to pledge scholarships
and opportunities for cooperative work experience for thirty students
from the new College.
Each of the three hospitals had provided $ 10,000 to meet initial fi-
nancial needs of the students. In addition, $600,000 had been raised from
private resources by July 1964, with a promise of another 8500,000 to be
raised by the following January.20 These funds, in conjunction with antic-
ipated monies from the federal government, would go to construct a
1 14 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
College of Nursing building already in the preliminary drawing stage and
scheduled for occupancy in 1965. Altogether, there was little cause for
concern as the first ninety-two freshmen were enrolled in the fall of 1964.
Such confidence, however, was all too soon to prove ill-founded, and only
a month after opening, the College embarked on what was to be almost
a decade of accreditation struggle with the National League of Nursing
(NLN).
Accreditation was a prerequisite to eligibility for federal funds. During
the summer of 1964, Dean of Admissions, Gilbert C. Garland, while con-
ducting a survey of potential applicants to the College of Nursing, had
learned that although the "co-op" plan strongly appealed, "better students
. . . tend to place the bachelor's degree higher on a scale of values than
the advantages of actual work experience." Consequently, Northeastern,
anxious to secure "reasonable assurance of accreditation" for its five-year
program as quickly as possible, invited the NLN for an on-site visit to the
Institution on October 1, 1964. Barely a week later a night letter an-
nounced, "I regret to advise you that on October 9, 1964, the NLN did not
grant reasonable assurance of accreditation of the proposed baccalaureate
program in nursing."21
The administration was stunned. Dr. Knowles, with understandable
irritation, sent off a letter to Dr. William K. Selden, Executive Secretary,
National Commission of Accreditation, questioning "what constitutes fair
criteria for the determination of reasonable assurance of accreditation."
After all, the program had been three years in the planning, had the ac-
ceptance of three of the Harvard teaching hospitals, and had a promise
that New England Deaconess Hospital would join in 1965. Further, it had
the approval of the Massachusetts Board of the Registration of Nurses. At
the same time, however, the University quickly made plans to secure at
least accreditation of its associate degree program, and in February 1965
the NLN again made an on-site visit. On March 3, the assessment returned:
"The Review Panel for Associate Degree Programs studied for Reasonable
Assurance of Accreditation the statements submitted by Northeastern
University, Associate Degree Nursing Program. . . . Reasonable assur-
ance was denied."22
It is not difficult to imagine the consternation of the University. Dr.
White, ordinarily a patient man, found it frankly "mystifying" and with
Dean Voss demanded reconsideration on grounds that the "unfavorable
action of the NLN Review Panel for Associate Degree Programs must have
been based upon erroneous information." The appeal availed them noth-
ing. The NLN remained adamant in its reason for rejection: the College
had not hired enough faculty members for the number of anticipated
Addition of Four Basic Colleges 115
students, and it was allowing too much credit for its courses. Northeast-
ern's officials, however, were reasonably convinced that the real reason
for rejection lay in the league's reservation about the cooperative features
of the programs. At a conference between the College of Nursing and the
cooperating hospitals in the summer of 1965, it was generally agreed that
application should be made again, this time stressing the nature of the
cooperative assignments. Even before the new papers were drawn up,
however, the leadership of the NLN changed, and a month later, on Sep-
tember 20, 1965, Northeastern received word that its "program has the
potential for achieving NLN accreditation by the time of graduation of the
first class."23
Problems with the league, however, were by no means over. Full
accreditation for the associate's program was not received until 1968 and
for the bachelor's program until 1972, when it was accorded for eight
years. By this time Northeastern's programs had become the prototype
for nursing programs across the country, attracting imitation and admi-
ration. It remained, however, the only school providing sequentially
planned experience and the only program requiring three work-
experience segments as a requirement for the associate degree and seven
for the baccalaureate degree. But this is to get ahead of our story. In 1965
"reasonable assurance" was sufficient to allow the University to turn its
attention to its second major problem, funding for the new building.
The delay in accreditation had been costly. Funding for facilities under
the Nurse Training Act of 1964 specified that funds could be allotted only
for that portion of a building uncompleted at the time of a grant award.
Ironically, construction on the new College had moved far ahead of sched-
ule. Begun in March 1965, the hall was almost completed by midsummer,
and by fall it was ready for occupancy. Never, it seemed, had workmen
performed more rapidly, but with the laying of each brick the possibility
of federal support faded further into a maze of Washington red tape. Dr.
Knowles, however, his New England heritage perhaps outraged that effi-
ciency should be punished by diminished reward, boldly confronted the
Washington scene. There followed a series of lively contretemps with Miss
Jessie Scott, then Chief of the Division of Nursing, U.S. Public Health
Service, and later a lieutenant general. On her favorable recommendation
the grant rested. Miss Scott, however, although in sympathy with North-
eastern's plight, was inclined to support the letter of the law, while Dr.
Knowles contended that if the law were designed to support new nursing
facilities, to withhold funds simply because rapid construction made the
building "old," would be to subvert its spirit. Finally, and only because of
the interest and influence of Senator Leverett Saltonstall, the issue was
1 16 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
resolved, and on April 17, 1966, a grant of $450,000 finally was awarded.
Although there is no question that the College of Nursing's first two years
were overshadowed by bouts with the NLN and the federal government,
the College, in spite of these conflicts, had continued to grow. By the time
the Mary Gass Robinson Hall was dedicated on April 7, 1966, the College
faculty had expanded from seven to eighteen, with an increase to twenty-
eight expected by 1966 or 1967. Of the initial class of ninety-two, seventy-
four had successfully completed the first year of full-time study and were
currently employed as cooperative students at Beth Israel, Children's, and
Massachusetts General Hospitals. First-year students in 1965-66 numbered
140, and 250 were expected to enroll in the separate associate and bac-
calaureate curricula by 1966-67. In addition, the College had further en-
hanced its professional status by joining the New England Council on
Higher Education for Nursing, organized under the New England Board
of Higher Education to improve nursing practice through interstate, in-
terinstitutional, and interagency cooperation in nursing education; and
both its associate and bachelor programs had received preliminary ap-
proval from the Massachusetts Board of Registration in Nursing.
In spite of its achievements in the first two years, however, the new
College still had a great deal of ground to cover before it could consider
itself a fully workable structure allowing for orderly growth in the future
and sound organizational relationships within and between the two un-
dergraduate programs. The need for clarification of this relationship sur-
faced explicitly in the spring of 1966 when a group of students who had
entered with the first class demanded that they be admitted to qualify for
a B.S. in nursing by attending two more years on the cooperative plan.
Their petition arose from a misunderstanding between the University and
the Admissions Department in December 1963. The Department, which
at that time was recruiting only for the associate degree curriculum, had
issued a form letter implying that students who enrolled at Northeastern
in the fall of 1963 could, on completion of their three-year program,
continue their studies on the Cooperative Plan for two additional years
and thus become eligible for the bachelor's degree in Nursing Education.
Such an arrangement was not intended, and as soon as the mistake was
discovered, about two months later, every effort was made to correct the
wrong information. Nevertheless, even though Northeastern would not
have its five-year cooperative program leading to the Bachelor of Science
degree in full effect until 1971, three students brought a bill of equity
against the University "to enjoin the University from collecting tuition
and to require them to admit the students to the baccalaureate program."24
Addition of Four Basic Colleges 117
The controversy dragged on through the winter of 1967 and was finally
resolved out of court by the institution of a Special Day Cooperative
Program leading to the Bachelor of Science for associate degree recipients
of the College of Nursing.
With recruitment for the first official members of the baccalaureate
program to enter in the fall of 1966, it became increasingly imperative to
obtain accreditation for the latter program. An on-site visit was finally
made in January 1968, and by the end of the month "reasonable assurance"
had been granted.25 In the spring of 1968, with both programs firmly
established and the enrollment at almost five hundred students, Dean Voss
resigned to accept a position closer to her home in Pennsylvania. North-
eastern accepted her resignation with regret. Dean Voss had been with
the College since its inception and had seen it through some of its stormier
years. The College was fortunate in her replacement, however.
In the fall of 1968, Juanita O. Long, who had joined the staff of the College
of Nursing in 1967, was appointed Acting Dean. The following year, with
the overwhelming support of her peers, she accepted the appointment as
Dean. One of her first problems was the reorganization of cooperative
work assignments. As the reputation of the College had grown through
the years, and as more and more students were attracted from outlying
areas, a severe commuting problem arose for the cooperative students
who had to be available for assignments to all shifts. Only two of the
hospitals provided living accommodations, and University dorms proved
expensive. In addition, some of the students who had special qualifications
or interests were agitating for other employers besides the cooperating
hospitals. Mindful of the University's obligation to the hospitals that had
helped establish the College of Nursing, Dean Long instituted a new policy
whereby two-thirds of the cooperative students would fulfill commitments
to the original participating hospitals and one-third would be free to accept
assignments elsewhere. It was a compromise that satisfied the demands
of the hospitals and the students; it also set the tone for the kind of
diplomatic approach that was to characterize Dean Long's leadership. For
example, in the spring of 1970, during the period of the most virulent
student unrest, her cool and compassionate direction kept the College
calm and, at the same time, securely on the track of academic development.
This academic development would take many forms. Prior to Dean
Long's coming to office, a pilot program to foster career mobility for
licensed practical nurses had been drawn up by a staff member. Associate
Professor Goldie Crocker. Under provisions of this program, licensed prac-
tical nurses would be allowed credit for previous experience. Dean Long,
Il8 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
finding the program to be innovative and imaginative, fostered its imple-
mentation. In June 1970, then, although Professor Crocker had since left
the College, Dean Long appointed Associate Professor of Nursing Mary
Patricia Kane to assume direction of the project, which subsequently went
into effect in the fall of that year with an enrollment of twenty students.
General enthusiasm for the kind of training this program represented was
duly manifest when the Division of Nursing, under the Department of
Health, Education and Welfare, allotted substantial funds for its support
from 1971 through 1973 and at the end of this period authorized their
continuation for still another year.
A second innovative program, which Dean Long was also instrumental
in initiating in the early 1970s, was a Pediatric Nurse Practitioner Associate
Program. Priscilla Andrews, Associate Professor, became the Nursing Di-
rector of the project that had begun under the aegis of Continuing Edu-
cation. Action oriented and designed to improve the quality of primary
health care, the program was the first of its kind on the East Coast, with
only one other of similar dimension in the entire country. With the aid
of Richard J. McNeil, a Coordinator in Research, and Professor Israel Katz,
then Dean of Continuing Education, funds were obtained from the federal
government. The first grant for $489,867 was allotted for the years
1972—1975. The program put Northeastern in the forefront of preparing
nurse practitioners and was well in keeping with Dean Long's overall
policy "to deliver quality health care to meet the diverse needs of clientele
whether they be ambulatory or acute, whether they be hospitalized or in
the community at large."26
In 1974 a third new program was introduced, the Registered Nurses-
Bachelor of Science program, which was self-paced and specifically de-
signed for registered nurses who wished to complete requirements for
the Bachelor of Nursing. Applicants whose knowledge of subject areas had
been obtained through actual experience, previous educational prepara-
tion, or individual study were encouraged to apply for credit through the
advanced placement process. The new curriculum represented North-
eastern's continuing interest in providing education for the older student
and in tailoring its educational offerings to the needs of the individual.
By 1975 the College of Nursing had come a long way from the first
tentative suggestions of the Harvard teaching hospitals. It offered four,
fully accredited programs to almost one thousand students and cooper-
ative-education experience and clinical nursing laboratories in approxi-
mately twenty-five metropolitan and suburban hospitals. At a time when
establishing new kinds of nursing education was a major concern in the
country, Northeastern had demonstrated that it could be a leader by
Addition of Four Basic Colleges 1 19
developing the first, full-fledged cooperative nursing college in the country
and marching in the vanguard of a national trend toward developing col-
legiate schools of nursing.
3 ,
BOSTON-BOUVE, 1964
To the uninitiated, the establishment of one major college and the
planning of a second might have seemed to be all that one University
could reasonably hope to accomplish in the space of a few years. For Dr.
Knowles, however, whose credits included the organization and institution
of the three Associated Colleges of Upper New York State in less than two
months, the only limits that could be legitimately countenanced were
limits in opportunities, and in the early 1960s, particularly for a man of
unflagging energy and determination, there was no shortage of these. Thus,
in the fall of 1962, when Mr. H. Felix de C. Pereira, Chairman of the
Corporation of Bouve-Boston,2"7 a distinguished four-year women's college
dedicated to physical education and physical therapy, and Dr. Minnie L.
Lynn, Director of Bouve, came to Northeastern to discuss whether the
University might be interested in taking over their institution, Dr. Knowles
did not hesitate. If Bouve-Boston proved to be suitable for Northeastern,
Northeastern would do its best to be suitable for Bouve.
On the surface at least, it appeared that the two institutions could indeed
effect a very happy alliance. Philosophically they were very close. Bouve-
Boston was a nationally known institution that had in the course of many
decades developed a unique four-year curriculum integrating liberal arts
and professional courses leading to a B.S. in Education, a B.S. in Physical
Therapy, and professional diplomas in each. The bachelor's degrees were
accorded through Tufts University in Medford, with which Bouve had
been affiliated since 1942. In the early 1960s, however, Tufts, in reassessing
its own goals, had decided to concentrate on liberal arts through the
baccalaureate years, deferring professional study until graduate school. As
a consequence, increasing pressure was put on its affiliated schools to
abandon their semiautonomous status, cast their lot with the University,
and conform to its standards.28 Bouve-Boston, however, was determined
not to abandon its identity or the policy that had gained it a national
reputation. It began to seek a new home. Northeastern, whose own phi-
losophy embraced the concept of combining general education and profes-
sional training, seemed a likely possibility; nevertheless, a merger was not
to be undertaken lightly.
Although both institutions agreed that their basic philosophies of
120 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
education accorded well, Northeastern wanted assurance (1) that the
fields of physical education and physical therapy would be adapted to the
Cooperative Plan of Education, (2) that Bouve would be willing to become
coeducational, and (3) that it would assume responsibility for the Uni-
versity's current physical education program for men as well as for a
physical education program for women, scheduled to begin in 1964. On
its part Bouve-Boston, in the person of Dr. Lynn, a brilliant and farsighted
woman of strong will and determined loyalty to her institution, sought
assurance ( 1 ) that the University would provide facilities consonant with
the School's standards and plans for expansion and (2) that the University
would not overwhelm the identity of Bouve, which traced its roots as far
back as 1913 and could boast a staunch and dedicated alumnae.
Throughout the spring and fall, both parties met at frequent intervals,
not so much to clarify their differences, for they were very much in accord
on basic principles, but to clarify the terms of an agreement under which
both could coexist happily. By December 1963 most relevant issues had
been resolved. Bouve-Boston would become coeducational and cooper-
ative, assume direction of Northeastern's existing program in physical
education for men, and incorporate the new program for women. In ad-
dition, Bouve-Boston would become an integral part of Northeastern but
retain its own name as evidence of the previous status of the school. The
faculty and administration of the college would be transferred at individual
option to the University with appropriate rank, benefits, and security. Dr.
Minnie L. Lynn was to be Dean of the new College, while Dr. Catherine
L. Allen, Professor of Physical Education at Bouve-Boston, President-Elect
of the American Association for Health, Physical Education and Recreation,
and longtime colleague of Dr. Lynn, was to be Chairman of Recreation
Education, a new program to be initiated at the time of merger.
A review of Bouve-Boston assets had revealed that they would bring
substantial resources to the University, and these assets Northeastern
would use toward the financing of a new building to house the College,
a gymnasium, and a swimming pool, which had already been planned as
part of the Diamond Anniversary Development Program, and toward the
development of playing fields and camp facilities at the Warren Center
for Physical Education and Recreation in Ashland.
Thus, by the end of December, Dr. Knowles was able to send an
announcement to the Northeastern faculty commenting on the imminence
of the merger and outlining the advantages. In summary he said that such
a merger would mean the enhancement of Northeastern's programs, staff,
and reputation. The new College would extend the professional oppor-
tunities available to Northeastern students; it would also significantly ex-
Addition of Four Basic Colleges 121
pand the existing health science programs by the addition of its physical
therapy curriculum and open new opportunities for all Northeastern stu-
dents to participate in instructional, recreational, and intramural programs.
The new College would bring to the University a distinguished faculty
with a national reputation in its field. Finally, it would add a loyal and
dedicated alumnae group to those who were already working for the
University.29 During the next six months final details were worked out,
and on July 1, 1964, Northeastern added still another professional college
to its ranks.
In a press release circulated in the summer just before the opening
of Boston-Bouve (the segments of the name had been reversed at the
time of the merger), the administration of the University expressed its
hopes for the new college: "We are planning to expand the scope of the
College and make it one committed to offering programs on the graduate
and undergraduate levels in health, physical education, and recreation, as
well as physical therapy. Research will be conducted in the health and
recreation fields. We hope that this college will become a resource center
in those fields and will provide refresher courses to those now in these
professions."30 Fulfillment of these hopes depended on three factors:
accreditation, suitable facilities, and, of course, the cooperation of the
Bouve faculty- and Northeastern in their realization.
Unlike the situation that had surfaced with the College of Nursing,
accreditation proved no problem for Boston-Bouve. Even before the
merger, Dr. Knowles had written to Dr. Robert J. Glaser of the Affiliated
Hospitals Center to assure that appropriate health science facilities, man-
datory for the training of physical therapists, would be available for the
use of Boston-Bouve students. Dr. Glaser assured the University of his
cooperation. Thus, the Council on New Education of the American Medical
Association, in collaboration with the American Physical Therapy Asso-
ciation (APTA), duly accorded provisional accreditation from 1965 to 1967
to Physical Therapy. In 1966 the National Council for the Accreditation
of Teacher Education (NCATE) also accredited Boston-Bouve programs
in Physical Education and recreation education for ten years, 1966-1976.
If the problem of accreditation was simply resolved, the problem of
facilities was somewhat more complicated. Northeastern had not been the
only university which Miss Lynn and Mr. Pereira had visited in the fall of
1961. In their search for a new home, they had also approached Boston
University and Brandeis. One of the deciding issues in their decision to
merge with Northeastern had been the latter's willingness to provide the
space for Boston-Bouve's requirements. The Warren Center in Ashland,
a seventy-acre tract of land located on the shore of Lake Ashland, which
122 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
could easily be adapted to an outdoor laboratory to teach camp leadership,
aquatics, lifesaving, and outdoor recreational activities, was particularly
enticing. As soon as the College had become part of the University, steps
were taken to develop the Warren Center. In short order, largely by virtue
of a $150,000 grant obtained from the Charles Hayden Foundation, new
roads, sewer lines, parking areas, and a beach were constructed and by
the summer of 1965 were in full use. The following year construction
began on a lodge that would contain dining and recreation facilities, as
well as a library and office area, and on the first of five cottages to be used
for living accommodations. And on May 12, 1967, the dedication of the
entire facility took place.
Although the Ashland facilities were a delight and more than ade-
quately filled the need for recreational facilities, the provision of laboratory
and office space was eagerly anticipated. For two years, while the Mary
Gass Robinson Hall, the $1,500,000 classroom-laboratory building that
would house both Northeastern's College of Nursing and Bouve's Physical
Therapy Department, was under construction, the staff and students of the
new College commuted back and forth between Tufts and Northeastern.
In the fall of 1966, the new building was completed, and Boston-Bouve
took up headquarters on Huntington Avenue well ahead of schedule. (How
much ahead of schedule is indicated by the fact that Tufts had originally
agreed to allow the College to use its facilities until 1967 or 1968 as
circumstances warranted. )
With the recreational and laboratory facilities permanently provided
for, only the problem of proper gymnasium, pool, and office facilities
remained. By the fall of 1964, the site of the Catholic Boys' Guidance
Center, also known as the Joseph P. Kennedy, Jr. Memorial Building, had
been purchased by the University. Conscious of its commitment to Boston-
Bouve, the administration now began to consider the facility's adaptability,
at least as temporary headquarters for the new College. If the University
had not previously been aware of Bouve's pride and sense of its own
mission, however, it was promptly reminded by Dean Lynn's frosty re-
sponse to the idea. In a memorandum to Dr. Knowles on May 26, 1965,
she wrote:
The overall problems of limited dimensions . . . the built-in restric-
tions and obsolescence of the gymnasium building all impose status
quo inadequacies and added costs which mount in paralyzing effects.
The most critical of these are unattainability of facilities standards and
thus the curtailment of approved curricula and essential implemen-
tations for accreditation; a consequent loss of established professional
stature and recognized leadership jeopardizing the nation-wide de-
mand for our graduates and their annual placement at all levels.31
Addition of Four Basic Colleges 123
As an added fillip, Dr. Lynn caustically reminded the University of the
"widening advantages of superh existing facilities and provision for their
rapid expansion on the campus of our potential competing neighbor,
namely, the undergraduate and graduate departments of the University of
Massachusetts (Boston)."32
No more was said about Boston-Bouve's use of the property, which
eventually housed the School of Education, but it is an amusing footnote
to history to discover that shortly after in an interview with Dr. Lynn, Dr.
Knowles found occasion to remark that "our institutions are now irrev-
ocably wed and we must accept the actions of each other as at least well
intentioned." With the Catholic Guidance Center rejected, even as tem-
porary headquarters, plans forged ahead for the development of a totally
new Boston-Bouve building and swimming pool adjacent to Cabot. The
completion of these facilities in 1968 and 1969, respectively, marked the
fulfillment of the assurances Northeastern had given to Dr. Lynn so many
years before.
In the meantime, the College had set about to "expand its scope" and
fulfill its side of the bargain. In 1964 the College opened with three under-
graduate departments, Physical Education for Men, Physical Education
for Women, and Physical Therapy, which was coeducational. In 1965 it
added a fourth department, the Coeducational Department of Recreation
Education, with ten students. The following year comprehensive exami-
nations were developed in physical therapy as a preparation for state
registration and licensing, which further enhanced the status of that pro-
gram. The College was off to a good start, and it was with much regret
that Minnie Lynn, who had presided at the merger and directed that start,
having reached the age of sixty-five, tendered her resignation to be effec-
tive at the end of the academic year 1966—67.
If Miss Lynn was sorry to step down, however, she was at least con-
fident that the College would continue in able hands. Dr. Catherine L.
Allen, who was a close friend of Dr. Lynn and who had worked with her
and with Drs. Knowles and White on the merger, was appointed the new
Dean. Unswervingly loyal to Boston-Bouve, she was determined that the
College would flourish in its new home and bent all her not inconsiderable
energies and administrative skills toward that end.
Under Dean Allen's direction, the undergraduate curriculum of Boston-
Bouve was reevaluated and further expanded. In 1967 summer programs
in Physical Education for Women and in Recreation Education were in-
augurated at the Warren Center. In 1970 an associate degree program in
Therapeutic Recreation Services was developed and placed operationally
under University College. And in 1972 a fourth department, Health Edu-
124 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
cation, was added to the roster of programs provided by Boston-Bouve.
In the meantime, the two departments of Physical Education were com-
bined, thus fulfilling Bouve's earlier assurance that the operation would
be totally coeducational, and Physical Therapy, which because of certain
hospital assignment problems had thus far not been placed under the
Cooperative Plan of Education, became fully cooperative.
Mindful of the promise that research and graduate programs would
be initiated at Boston-Bouve, Dr. Allen also began plans for a master's
degree program to be offered in Physical Education and in Recreation.
Both of these were begun in 1970, with the first graduate course in Physical
Therapy being added in 1972.
Dean Allen's ambitions for her College were not limited, however,
simply to academic enhancement. As a woman of strong social conscience
and as a President of the American Association of Health, Physical Edu-
cation and Recreation, she took seriously the commitment of the College
and the University to the community at large. In February 1965 she ap-
peared before a Senate Subcommittee in Washington to urge support of
a bill designed to strengthen programs concerned with the health and
well-being of youngsters in the fifty states. It was an issue on which Miss
Allen felt strongly and to which she devoted many of the best efforts of
Bouve.
In 1967 the College began developing summer camp programs for
underprivileged youth, staffed by Boston-Bouve students. In 1968 it par-
ticipated in the Community School Pilot Plan, the Boston-Charles E.
Mackay "lighted schoolhouse," which was a cooperative venture between
Northeastern, the Boston School Committee, and South End residents to
enrich the educational and recreational opportunities of area residents.
In 1971 a Perceptual-Motor Laboratory was established for preschool chil-
dren with Boston-Bouve students as teachers, and in 1970 a camp for the
severely handicapped was instituted at the Warren Center, initiated by the
Department of Recreation in conjunction with an Easter Seal Society pilot
project. Indeed, in its first ten years, Boston-Bouve chalked up a com-
mendable record of community services, including
1. Volunteering 1,100 hours to work with children having physical,
mental, emotional, and sensory disabilities;
2. Instructing 75-80 inner city children per week in elementary phys-
ical education at Northeastern;
3. Performing volunteer work in institutions such as nursing homes,
children's hospitals, clinics, half-way houses, drug centers, detox-
ification units;
Addition of Four Basic Colleges 125
4. Supervising 500 children in evening and outdoor educational
activities;
5. Conducting over 300 hours' worth of supervised swimming classes
for crippled and mentally retarded youngsters;
6. Sponsoring Fenway Project for all citizens of all ages from ball
teams for the young to hot dinners for the aged;
7. Conducting extensive workshops and consultant services for
schools, towns, special groups.33
Even the smaller college community was of concern to Dean Allen, who
in 1967 was instrumental in introducing the first Student Advisory Board
in the University to Boston-Bouve, a precedent that the other colleges
were soon to follow.
Dean Allen's commitment to her profession was no less highly de-
veloped. With her encouragement, the College opened its facilities to
several delegates from the 84th National Convention of the American
Association for Health, Physical Education and Recreation, which met in
Boston in 1968, and in June 1971 invited the graduates of the College and
professional leaders to Bouve when the 50th Anniversary Convention of
American Physical Therapy Association convened in Boston.
Eleven years after becoming affiliated with Northeastern, Boston-
Bouve's "marriage," of which Dr. Knowles had spoken to Dean Lynn, could
be pronounced a success. Under the University aegis, Bouve flourished;
its enrollment expanded from 429 in 1964 to over 1,200 undergraduates
in 1975. M With the opportunities provided by the new facilities, program
offerings were able to be substantially increased in number and scope,
and it was generally agreed by the older alumnae, whose contributions
underscored their feelings, that the alliance had indeed nurtured the well-
being of their College. On its part, Northeastern had profited by the
addition of a professional college that increased not only the range of its
offerings in a high-demand area but also its local and national prestige.
4
THE COLLEGE OF CRIMINAL JUSTICE, 1967
Of the four undergraduate day colleges that came into being during
the 1960s, probably none more clearly represented the philosophy of
President Knowles and probably none was a more sensitive barometer of
the enthusiasms, pressure, and tensions that prevailed at the University
during that period than the College of Criminal Justice.
Early in his career as an educator, Dr. Knowles had made it quite
clear that while he was not a proponent of mere technical education,
126 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
which lacking in theoretical content might become quickly outdated,
neither was he a proponent of an ivory tower institution that would leave
the students unequipped to cope with the exigencies of earning a living.
Between these polarities, however, existed vast areas of human endeavor
that were appropriate to university-level education and that Northeastern
might well serve. Just such areas were pharmacy, nursing, and physical
education and physical therapy. Other fields, however, had yet to be
developed, needing only imagination, courage, and foresight to become
legitimate professions. Government service was one such profession, and
across the river in Cambridge, Harvard University would work in this area;
law enforcement and criminal justice was another profession, and this
field became the focus of Northeastern's concern.
In order to understand Northeastern's interest in the field of law enforce-
ment and criminal justice, it is necessary to understand the context in
which it arose. During the 1950s, awareness of the problems of civil rights
and the discrepancies between local and federal laws had begun to surface
as a result of the Rosa Parks affair, the Brown decision, and the calling of
the National Guard in Little Rock. If there was no direct correlation be-
tween these cases and the introduction of Law Enforcement courses at
Northeastern, there was, nevertheless, an indirect correlation, for attention
was being focused on issues of justice and law as it had never been focused
before.
Thus, as early as 1959 Northeastern officials met with the Massachu-
setts Association of the Chiefs of Police to determine if academic, uni-
versity-centered police education programs might help achieve the
general skills, high status, and community support that efficient law en-
forcement was coming to demand. The Association was enthusiastic, and
in i960 Professor Robert Sheehan of the School of Police Administration
and Public Safety at Michigan State University was recruited by North-
eastern to chair a newly formed Department of Law Enforcement and
Security under University College.
Professor Sheehan's contention was that for such a department to be
successful it must work in close cooperation with professional law en-
forcement officers. With their cooperation, then, he established two types
of programs. One type was to be noncredit. The first of these noncredit
programs, a week-long seminar taught by professionals in the field and
offered through the Office of Adult and Continuing Education, was con-
ducted in May of 1961. It was an immediate success, and a second seminar
was planned for the fall. Out of these programs grew the Police Institute,
which was to continue throughout most of the 1960s as a major element
Addition of Four Basic Colleges 127
in Continuing Education. The second program, founded on the same phi-
losophy of close cooperation between professionals and the University,
was to be a degree-granting program leading to a bachelor of science,
with the major in law enforcement. The curriculum, encompassing social
science, English, literature, government, history, science, and math, as well
as law enforcement programs, was approved by the Academic Council,
precursor of the Faculty Senate, and opened in University College in the
fall of 1961. Immediately it was oversubscribed; two hundred students had
enrolled — 400 percent more than University officials had determined
would constitute grounds for continuation.35
At the same time, and beyond the narrow confines of Huntington
Avenue, the problem of law and justice was commanding even more
attention. In 1962, the year after University College introduced its first
two law enforcement courses — Administration of Justice, and Criminal
Investigation and Case Preparation — Air Force Veteran James H. Meredith
attempted to enter the University of Mississippi but was barred by Gov-
ernor Ross Barnett. The National Guard was called, and for the next several
hours, TV cameras brought into the living rooms of millions of Americans
the image of Mississippi state troopers standing idly by as a full-fledge riot
developed. Six months later these same American viewers watched Bir-
mingham's Police Commissioner Eugene "Bull" Connor unleash snarling
dogs and use high-pressure hoses and electric cattle prods on a group of
demonstrators that included women and children. Even though many
viewers were not sympathetic with the massive demonstration for civil
rights staged by Martin Luther King and his Southern Christian Leadership,
a cry of moral outrage swept the country. Where was the law if such
events could occur? Compounding the confusion was the fact that the
actions of the Birmingham authorities had been perfectly legal. The blacks
had no federally guaranteed rights to eat at lunch counters or to dem-
onstrate even peacefully.
It was no coincidence, then, that in the same month as the Birmingham
riots, Dr. Sheehan and Dr. Knowles began discussion of a College of Crim-
inal Justice at Northeastern that would offer a more sophisticated and
comprehensive curriculum than was currently available at University Col-
lege. With the exception of John Jay College of Criminal Justice at City
College of New York, there was no major university program in the country
concerned with the administration of justice in America. 'Tet the way
justice is administered is of paramount importance to the stability of our
democratic way of life and to the future of this nation. The civil rights
issue demonstrates this dramatically," wrote Dr. Sheehan to Dr. Knowles
in April 1964. 36
128 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
During the next few months, a series of memorandums attesting to
the seriousness of Northeastern's interest in establishing just such a college
passed between Dr. Knowles and Dr. Sheehan. The President, acutely
aware that state appropriations as well as political cooperation would be
essential to the success of such a venture, enjoined Dr. Sheehan to visit
police departments, the offices of the attorney general, state and federal
offices concerned with criminal justice, and prison and probation officers
to determine their reaction to such a college and whether cooperative
students might be placed were it to be founded. In general the response
was highly favorable, and on December 1, 1964, Dr. Sheehan wrote to Dr.
Knowles, "There seems to be such a real interest, based on initial inquiries,
that in my judgment it now appears feasible to begin these programs, on
a limited basis, in the fall of 1965 or, at the latest, the following
September."37
Meanwhile, on the national scene events were unrolling that were to
have a profound effect on the formation of the College. Violent crime was
increasing at such an unprecedented rate that President Lyndon B.Johnson
felt called upon to form a National Crime Commission to study the problem
of crime. Dr. Sheehan was invited to participate. Senator Edward M. Ken-
nedy was pushing for the passage of a Law Enforcement Assistance Act
that would give aid to higher education institutions engaged in the prep-
aration of law enforcement personnel — again Dr. Sheehan was asked for
assistance — and the Ford Foundation had designed a grant that would
offer money to institutions that would train law enforcement officials and
related personnel. All of these actions taken together created an atmo-
sphere that made Northeastern's proposed College particularly timely.
In 1965 Dr. Knowles sent a proposal to the Faculty Senate concerning
the establishment of a College of Criminal Justice at Northeastern. It was
the first time that this body had been seriously consulted on the creation
of a new college, a function only just accorded them following a major
revision of their bylaws. (See Chapter XVIII.) The Senate responded by
appointing a special committee to look into the matter. Their particular
concerns were that the content of the curricula be truly academic, not
vocational, and be at the college level. In the next few months the com-
mittee met frequently with Dr. Sheehan before finally returning the judg-
ment on November 25, 1965, that such a college should be founded
"providing that the program is one that offers a broad liberal education
as a foundation for professional training." The proposal was then forwarded
to the Board of Trustees, where it was approved February 11, 1966. On
July 22, 1966, it was officially announced that a College of Criminal Justice,
offering a five-year curricula leading to the Bachelor of Science in various
Addition of Four Basic Colleges 129
areas of law enforcement and security and conducted on the Cooperative
Plan of Education, would open in the fall of 1967 s8
Unfortunately, although this litany of events suggests a simple cor-
relation between needs and Northeastern's willingness and ability to re-
spond, the situation was far more complex. The televised events in
Birmingham, the 1964 Free Speech movement in Berkeley, which brought
students into direct confrontation with civil authorities in no mere town-
and-gown conflict but on an issue that touched the very Constitution itself,
and the 1966 passage of the Miranda Act, which introduced the notion of
new rights for the accused, were making the country increasingly anxious
about the very character of law and crime itself. The 1966 riots in Watts,
with the vision of an entire segment of the population engaged in burning,
looting, and tearing down a vast area of a major city, forced the public,
the police, and the federal administration to confront the very assumptions
of our system. In other words, just as Northeastern was in the process of
planning its College of Criminal Justice, the very idea of justice was being
raised to a level of consciousness that had made the area one of extreme
sensitivity.
By the fall of 1967 when the College opened, this national sensitivity
had reached fever pitch. Over the summer there had been the riots in
Detroit and Newark; at the same time there was a rise in student unrest
that would eventually culminate at Columbia in 1968. Suddenly the crim-
inal stereotype had been reversed: Aunt Jemima and Henry Aldrich were
on the wrong side of the law, and Rod Steiger had replaced Pat O'Brien
as the movie cop image. Those concerned with the reasonable conduct
of serious programs found themselves confronted with the need to tread
a fine line and maintain a low profile if they were to continue in the
efficient pursuit of these ends.
The College opened with fifty students, as the eyes of the educational
and larger community watched closely. In the entire history of the Uni-
versity, probably no college was more vulnerable to the approval or oppro-
brium of the community. It was not an enviable situation. On the surface
all looked well. The Ford Foundation had granted the young college a
substantial grant of 890,000. 39 A local bill, for which Dr. Sheehan had
lobbied and which would help the College, had been passed and would
allow for a police internship program whereby students could both work
and study in the area of law enforcement courses. But a possibility of a
misstep was omnipresent.
As Dr. Sheehan himself had stated in i960, the success of any such
endeavor depended on the close cooperation between the University and
professionals of law enforcement. It was a difficult balance to maintain,
130 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
and it is one of the bitter ironies of that era that Dr. Sheehan, who had
been appointed as Acting Dean of the new College with expectations of
assuming full deanship once the formalities of the search were over, would
be a central figure in the first threat to that balance when conflicts arose
between him and law enforcement agencies, including the Boston Police
Department. Although it is difficult to determine the exact genesis of the
conflict, undoubtedly a contributing factor was an August 1967 interview
on WBZ-TV. Dr. Sheehan, called on to comment on the need for a criminal
justice program, remarked on the lack of sufficient education among mem-
bers of the Boston Police Force. The comment was seized upon as a
criticism of the force, and although this had not been the intent, damage
had been done. In the ensuing months, the relationship between Dr. Shee-
han and Police Commissioner Edmund L. McNamara deteriorated.
In the overheated atmosphere of the 1960s, controversy of any kind
was the last thing that the University wanted for its new College. That
such controversy had arisen, however, soon became clear when in Feb-
ruary 1968 the Boston Herald announced the Boston Permanent Charity
fund was granting $35,000 for a law enforcement program under the aegis
of Harvard and MIT's Joint Center for Urban Studies.40 The money was
incidental. What shocked Northeastern officials were two other pieces of
information: Boston Police Commissioner Edmund L. McNamara remarked
that the program was the most exciting and progressive step in this area
that he had seen since taking office six years ago; and Boston Gas and H.P.
Hood, members of the business and industrial community on which North-
eastern depended for the success of its own program, were providing
$1,000 scholarships to the Boston State program.
Whatever the reasons for this disaffiliation, the message was clear:
With Dr. Sheehan in command, the College of Criminal Justice could no
longer depend on the cooperation of the community, particularly of the
law enforcement community. Dr. Sheehan relinquished his position as
Acting Dean, although he continued to teach in the College. It was a bitter
lesson but one that underscores the position that Northeastern had at-
tained by the end of the 1960s. No longer was the University a small and
private place; no longer was the question "Where on Huntington Avenue?"
relevant. National recognition had come, but with it had come concom-
itant cares, pressures, and restrictions.
Following Dr. Sheehan's resignation as Acting Dean, he returned to
the faculty of Criminal Justice, and Dr. Charles Tenney was appointed his
successor on July 1, 1968, serving until 1969 when he left for personal
reasons. At this point, Dr. Knowles asked Dr. Norman Rosenblatt to take
charge of the College as Acting Dean. Dr. Rosenblatt had been a member
Addition of Four Basic Colleges 131
of the Northeastern faculty since 1957 and had served as Assistant Dean
of the College of Liberal Arts from 1966 to 1968. As the new curricula
intended to draw heavily on liberal arts, his appointment seemed partic-
ularly appropriate. In addition, Dr. Rosenblatt had been involved with the
1965 faculty committee to study the institution of the College and was
thus well aware of both the potential problems and strengths of the new
unit. The appointment proved a wise one, and the following year on June
30, 1970, the announcement was made that a search committee, having
sifted hundreds of applications, had chosen Dr. Rosenblatt to fill the po-
sition of permanent dean.41
Under Dr. Rosenblatt's calm and level-headed direction, the young College
of Criminal Justice flourished. Policies were instituted that would assure
it was both responsive to community needs and academically sound. A
program in the history of law enforcement, which gave students a per-
spective they very much needed, became a staple of the curriculum, as
did courses in urban problems. Women and blacks were recruited as
members of the faculty, and minority students were encouraged to enroll.
Cooperative positions not only were found in security jobs but also in
mental hospitals, social agencies, and penal institutions. In fact, in the early
1970s, much to the disappointment of some students who felt that en-
rollment in the College would mean license to sport a gun and badge, all
cooperative positions requiring the carrying of firearms were dropped; in
addition, no gun was even allowed in the building, for implicit in the
entire concept of the College was the notion that they were in business
to teach law enforcement, which by its very nature eschews the use of
violence. The policy stood out in sharp contrast to the temper of the
times.
During the period of student unrest in the late 1960s and early 1970s,
the College of Criminal Justice became a particular target of antagonism.
In the winter of 1970, a Weathermen broadside appeared announcing,
"The College of Criminal Justice is about fighting, too. . . . Despite its
liberal daytime front, at night Criminal Justice trains pigs to keep black
people enslaved. It should be destroyed."42 In spite of this invective,
however, and in spite of a night raid on the facility in February 1970, which
was easily turned back by a handful of faculty and security police, the
College remained astonishingly free from any real disruption, a situation
undoubtedly attributable to the fact that the Weathermen charge of covert
nighttime activities was simply blatantly and conspicuously untrue.
Nevertheless, when in the fall of 1971 an invitation was extended to
then Attorney General John Mitchell to attend the dedication ceremonies
132 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
of the College, the political temper on the campus was such that it might
easily have exploded into violence. The invitation had been extended at
the request of John A. Volpe, former governor of Massachusetts, benefactor
of Northeastern, Ambassador to Italy, and the person for whom the College
of Criminal Justice building was to be named. The degree of animosity
toward Mitchell, however, who had exonerated the National Guard in the
Kent State killings, had not been fully calculated, and in the fall of 1971,
only days before the dedication, the Federal Bureau of Investigation in-
formed President Knowles that radical groups throughout New England
were planning to descend on Northeastern to disrupt the ceremony. Pres-
ident Knowles promptly called a meeting with University administrators
and the Board of Trustees. After a series of discussions, it was determined
that in the interests of the University the dedication must be postponed,
a decision with which Governor Volpe promptly concurred. Predictably,
the decision was not without reverberations. Extremists at both ends of
the political spectrum responded with outrage: "It's a sellout. You have
a stupid crowd on your staff. . . . Attorney General Mitchell should go
to work on all you slobs," was countered with shouts that "the University
is cowardly . . . chicken . . . should come out and call Mitchell what he
is, a dirty Fascist."43 But the University remained calm, and ultimately the
dedication took place without incident in a small private ceremony on
April 15, 1972.
Unfortunate though all these incidents may have been, they were not
without some redeeming factors. That the young College was able to
absorb its troubles and criticisms was a tribute to its basic stability. Indeed,
to some degree these very problems and pressures were turned to the
College's own ends, reinforcing its determination to give the student per-
spective on the very issues that were crashing against the walls and to
educate students not to accept easy answers to complex problems. These
were difficult concepts for many young persons to understand, and it is
not surprising that the attrition rate for the freshmen was high; but at the
same time, and as a consequence of these policies, the College began to
grow in strength and to command respect from both the educational
community and the citizenry at large. Eight years after its inception, en-
rollment had grown from fifty to over i,6oo.44 The program had been
expanded to include a master's program in criminal justice and an inno-
vative interdisciplinary graduate program in forensic chemistry, which led
to a Master of Science degree, awarded jointly by the College of Criminal
Justice and the College of Liberal Arts. In the meantime, and attesting to
the validity of its programs, the College was also the recipient of federal
grants, including a three-year grant given in 1973 by the Law Enforcement
Addition of Four Basic Colleges 133
Assistance Administration of the Department of Justice. This grant was to
aid in developing a graduate program in criminal justice, to assist in es-
tablishing a forensic science and resource center, and to form a group that
would continually evaluate the graduate program and forensic science
center as well as assist in criminal justice curriculum development. There
was no question that an imaginative and pioneering idea had achieved
maturity, and not only did Northeastern have a new college but the profes-
sional administration of criminal justice had become, largely through
Northeastern's effort, a legitimate and respected academic pursuit.
VIII
Expansion of the Four
Original Basic Colleges and
Lincoln Institute
The pressure of expanding enrollments and the demand for new
programs that had sparked the founding of the four new colleges
exercised no less effect on the four older colleges and Lincoln Institute,
which became a college in 1963. But whereas the problems of the new
colleges had been largely problems of birth, the problems confronting
the older institutions might be summed up in the single word
"adjustment": adjustment to a vastly expanded number of students and,
toward the end of the decade, a new kind of student; adjustment to a
vastly expanded faculty, one with new expectations and demands;
adjustment to new curricula, necessitated at first by an increasing
emphasis on technology, which had begun after World War II but
became almost a national mania after Sputnik, and necessitated later by
increasing emphasis on "people issues," which rose in the wake of
Vietnam and the civil rights movement; and finally, adjustment to a new
perception of education manifest in the growing importance of formal
accreditation.
l
Accreditation, which in the academic world means recognition by
some legally responsible outside organization that the programs of a given
134
Expansion of Original Colleges and Lincoln Institute 135
institution measure up to the standards of that organization, had never
constituted much of an issue in United States educational circles until the
mid- 1930s. At this time, however, the idea of licensing — requiring certifica-
tion for the practitioners of certain professions — was gaining greater and
greater currency. Professional organizations were beginning to establish
specific criteria that must be fulfilled were a person to qualify to take a
licensing examination.
Regional organizations designed to assure that educational institutions
within a given area maintain certain standards had, of course, existed for
quite some time. The approval of these self-appointed bodies had little
effect beyond bestowing a certain status on an institution. It was only
when professional agencies began demanding regional approval as a pre-
requisite to professional approval that an entirely new construction was
put on regional acceptance. In 1935, then, Northeastern's administrators
determined that it might be expedient for the University to become a
member of the major "accrediting" agency on the New England seaboard,
the New England Association of Colleges and Secondary Schools.
To a large extent the University's application was little more than a
gesture. At this period the New England Association neither had nor
wanted any real accrediting power. Originally instituted to assure some
uniformity in the standards of secondary schools, it had expanded through
the years to include colleges as well. Although inclusion on its list sug-
gested a necessary respectability, it hardly involved any rigorous screening
process or arduous conformity to hard and fast principles. Indeed, the
story of Northeastern's own acceptance into the Association clearly dem-
onstrates both the informality of those earlier evaluative procedures and
the gentlemanly assumptions of a bygone era.
Thus, Dr. William C. White, recounting the story, tells of an afternoon
in the fall of 1935 when he and then Assistant Professor Asa S. Knowles
went to call on Dr. Stacey Southworth, President of the Association, re-
garding the possibility of membership for Northeastern. Dr. Southworth,
who had been the principal of Thayer Academy when young Asa had
attended some ten years earlier, "listened to our request, nodded agree-
ably, and declared that, of course we could be accepted, for if Asa, who
had been a good student, thought the place qualified then that was suf-
ficient recommendation."1 Consequently Northeastern became a member
of the Association.
But if acceptance by the New England Association of Colleges and
Secondary Schools was fairly simple, acceptance by professional agencies
would prove to be quite another matter. In 1935 Northeastern had sought
and received the acceptance of its College of Engineering degree by the
136 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
University of the State of New York as a prerequisite to graduates practicing
in that state. Its application for acceptance by the newly formed Engineers'
Council for Professional Development (ECPD) a short time later, however,
proved far more traumatic and far more indicative of the kind of influence
such organizations would come to wield.
The ECPD had been founded in the mid- 1930s by a group of repre-
sentatives from major engineering schools and professional organizations.
Its function was to assure the maintenance of engineering standards, to
protect the public, and, as a corollary, to protect its own profession from
inadequately trained engineers, particularly in construction. To fulfill these
aims, ECPD began to agitate for licensing in every state and, in the mean-
time, allotted to itself the right to determine who could qualify for ac-
ceptance as a professional engineer. Graduation from an accredited
institution was one requisite, but approval of each engineering program
within a given college by the ECPD was another. Northeastern was by this
time, of course, a member of the New England Association, and its pro-
grams had been accepted by the New York State licensing board. Thus
with a certain degree of confidence, the administration invited a com-
mittee of the ECPD to inspect its programs. The result was a stunning
blow. The Committee rejected the College largely on the grounds that its
laboratory facilities "were inadequate," but it also called into question the
four-year curricula, which included time for the cooperative experience
and was, therefore, considered "too short" by the ECPD; and it questioned
the organizational structure of the Institution, which it felt was too closely
affiliated with that of the YMCA.2
It is not difficult to imagine the consternation that swept the still
young Institution at this verdict. Engineering was the backbone of North-
eastern, and approval of its programs was deemed essential to the very
life of the Institution. Contemporaries recall that for a brief moment it
seemed all too possible that the College must close, and faculty maundered
the halls clutching want ads, numbly convinced that their careers on Hunt-
ington Avenue were over.
It is a credit to the faith of Dr. Speare, Dr. Ell, and Dr. White, however,
that acceptance of defeat was not in their nature. Their responses to the
ECPD criticisms, immediate and radical, would change the shape of the
University forever. Meeting the organizational problem head-on, they
pressed for a new governing structure that would effectively sever the
overlapping directorates with the Boston YMCA. This pressure, in con-
junction with other factors (see Chapter XIX), contributed to the for-
Expansion of Original Colleges and Lincoln Institute 137
mation in 1936 of a separate Northeastern University Corporation, with
an independent Board of Trustees as the controlling body of the Institution.
With equal dispatch, the four-year curriculum was extended to five years,
which allowed for an acceptable amount of classroom work as well as
cooperative work — thus began the unique calendar of Northeastern. The
issue of facilities, however, was even more problematic.
In 1936 Northeastern still occupied only rented quarters. Its concrete
laboratories were at the bottom of an elevator shaft; its electrical laboratory
doubled as an ordinary classroom. Although the administration was con-
vinced that the cooperative experience more than made up for these
inadequacies by exposing the students to real-life laboratories, ECPD was
skeptical. A room of its own thus became imperative and, despite the
Depression, Northeastern determined to build one.
Against overwhelming odds the money was raised, and in 1938 Rich-
ards Hall opened triumphantly on what had been the tennis courts of the
YMCA. The following year ECPD granted acceptance to four of the en-
gineering programs — Civil, Mechanical, Electrical, and Industrial. Chem-
ical Engineering, however, had to wait another two years for approval
when the addition of still another building provided it with the space
acceptable to the ECPD. As a footnote to history, it should be recognized
here that on the other side of the river, Harvard's Chemical Engineering
program, facing the same issue, cavalierly decided to ignore ECPD and in
place of a building merely appended a sentence to its catalog stating that
the program was not accepted.
Thus a cataclysmic crisis was surmounted, but it had taught Dr. Ell
a valuable lesson — the price of accreditation could come high. Conse-
quently, if only prestige and not actual professional need was involved,
he saw little advantage in pursuing certification. By 1958 Northeastern had
added only one other accreditation to its list, the Committee on Training
of the American Chemical Society, which was essential to the licensing
of graduates from the Department of Chemistry.
For Dr. Knowles, however, who had been instrumental in securing
accreditation for the Associated Colleges of Upper New York State and
who had served on accrediting bodies both as a judge of qualifications
and as defendant for universities applying for accreditation, the term de-
noted much more than mere licensing or membership in an exclusive
club. What Dr. Knowles perceived was that in a world, which had grown
increasingly complex since the days of afternoon tea with Dr. Southworth,
accreditation had become the one way to determine legitimacy, the one
138 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
way to certify that an institution could take its place at the "head table
of academic respectability." His conviction on this score and his deter-
mination that, wherever it was relevant, Northeastern's departments
should become accredited would, as much as anything else, shape the
academic future of the University.
2
GROWTH OF THE COLLEGE OF BUSINESS ADMINISTRATION
Of all the undergraduate colleges existing at Northeastern in 1959,
the one most immediately affected by the new perception of accreditation
was the College of Business Administration. (This situation has been briefly
covered in Chapter III; its importance, however, is sufficient to justify
some repetition.) In 1958 the College had applied for membership in the
American Association of Collegiate Schools of Business, which had the
authority to approve all programs being offered by business colleges and
schools. In March, however, rejection had been forwarded to the Univer-
sity with the following comment:
The principal problem . . . was the relationship of the Evening School
of Business to the program of the College of Business Administration.
The Committee was evidently bothered by the fact that there were
two independent units within Northeastern University, each offering
degree-granting programs in the field of Business. . . . The inspectors
also felt that the M.B.A. program should be related to the full-time
faculty rather than to the part-time faculty of an evening school.3
Shortly after this report, and largely to satisfy the requirements of the
Association, Northeastern had established its Graduate School with the
Master of Business Administration (M.B.A.) program placed under its aegis
on July 1, 1958. Far more difficult to deal with, however, was the issue of
the two undergraduate programs, for implicit in the Association's criticism
was the recognition that although both day and evening curriculum led
to the same B.S. in Business Administration, their formats differed sub-
stantially. The day program was a full-time cooperative curriculum with
an emphasis on professional courses, although some space was allotted to
liberal arts. The evening program was part-time, gave credit for life ex-
perience— an educational strategy whose time had not yet come — and
had almost no liberal arts. In addition, while the Day College was faulted
as having too small a full-time faculty and a paucity of terminal degrees,
the evening faculty was almost exclusively part-time with even fewer
terminal degrees.
Expansion of Original Colleges and Lincoln Institute 139
On the surface, the problem was simple: dissolve the Evening School
and focus full attention on the Day College. But Northeastern was by
tradition deeply committed to its adult evening students and had no in-
tention of abandoning them. Thus the situation remained in abeyance until
the advent of the new administration.
Dr. Knowles, who had already earned himself a reputation as "an
expert on tape, red,"4 confronted this Gordian knot with characteristic
energy. If the Association would not allow the two degree programs, then
Northeastern would change its format and reserve the B.S. in Business
Administration to graduates of the Day College. It would not, however,
abandon its evening students. To accommodate their needs, Northeastern
would create a totally new unit, University College (see Chapters III, VI),
which would henceforth have jurisdiction over all evening offerings. Busi-
ness programs would be provided as one of several possible majors, but
because they would lead to the B.S. without specification — not the B.B.A. —
they would not be subject to the approval of the Association.
While not everyone was confident that Northeastern was ready for
such a dramatic reorganization, Dr. Knowles was firmly convinced that it
would have to be, and thus by the fall of i960 the new pattern was
accomplished. Dr. Albert E. Everett, who had functioned as the Dean of
the Evening School of Business and Director of the entire Evening Division,
was assigned the dual task of managing University College until a full-time
dean could be appointed, and of managing a new Office of Adult and
Continuing Education. Dr. Roger S. Hamilton, Dean of the College of
Business Administration, became responsible not only for the academic
content of the day programs but also for the business subjects offered
during the evening in University College and for all faculty appointed to
this area. At the same time Professor Carlo E. Gubellini, who had taught
both day and evening courses and had coauthored a book on business
administration, was appointed as the new Assistant Dean under Dr. Ham-
ilton, with the injunction to give special attention to the evening courses.
The new organization opened the door to recognition by the Asso-
ciation of Collegiate Schools of Business and simultaneously served to
upgrade the quality of the evening offerings by making the Day College
administrators responsible for all programs in their field, for all faculty
appointments, and for uniformity in admission and degree requirements
in their area regardless of time slot.
But while the altered framework was a major step in the history of
the College, it was by no means the only issue with which it had to
contend. The original report of the Association had also indicated that the
number of books in the field of business in Northeastern's library ought
140 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
to be substantially increased — there were then 4,800 titles; that faculty
loads should not exceed twelve credit hours; and that graduation require-
ments should be increased from 1.4 to 2 Q.P.A. In addition, questions had
been raised on faculty status and on the very content of the curricula
itself.5
For over thirty years since its founding in 1922, Northeastern's College of
Business Administration had served the community largely in a practical
way by providing graduates equipped to assume specific middle-level
management positions in local businesses and industry. By 1959, however,
change was in order.
Since World War II, the perception of the role of business had under-
gone a considerable metamorphosis, and as a corollary so also had colleges
of business. The major new counter was the rapid rise of technology, the
effects of which were felt not simply in engineering and the sciences but
in business and liberal arts as well. Paradoxically, the effect of this new
technology on the business world was not a renewed commitment to
practical arts but rather a growing recognition that, if the colleges were
to keep pace, if the graduates were to assume meaningful places in man-
agement, then there must be a greater awareness of the underlying prin-
ciples informing business and a greater awareness of the role of the
businessman in the overall scheme of things.
In 1959 Robert A. Gordon and James E. Howell, who were later to be
responsible for the Ford Foundation Report on Business Schools, expressed
the new perception: "Highly specialized and dynamic technologies require
informed and adaptive managers, schooled both in a scientific attitude and
in the requirements of individualized specialties. At the same time man-
agers must bring to the complexities of their tasks skill in human relations
and a broad awareness of the larger environment within which business
operates."6
This attitude, which was reflected in the Association's concern for
the liberal arts content of the business administration curricula, was also
shared by Dr. Albert E. Everett, who in his role as Director of the Evening
School of Business had written Dr. Knowles in April 1959:
Recent economic and technological trends, projected at an acceler-
ated rate into the years immediately ahead, are making phenomenal
changes in the requisites of the business manager of the future. De-
velopments in "management science" are struggling to keep pace with
technological "know how." The leading thinkers who have charted
the course of civilization throughout the ages are making us conscious
of the new range of responsibility for leadership in today's complex
Expansion of Original Colleges and Lincoln Institute 141
and interdependent society. ... It is the function of education to
prepare for this new type of management leadership by providing the
student with an insight into human nature, the forces that have shaped
his cultural inheritance, and the recognition of the growing impor-
tance of business in society and world affairs.^
Thus, coincident with the need for reorganization, there was also a philo-
sophic change in the College's perception of itself and the kind of training
it should be providing.
One of the first manifestations of this new perception was a change
in the curriculum. During the period the curriculum moved away from
an exclusively pragmatic orientation, a concept of courses as formalized
apprentice experience designed to fit the student into specific jobs, toward
a more theoretical orientation, with courses designed to equip the student
for any number of administerial positions.
Operationally this meant that course content had to become broader
and more sophisticated. To implement the first goal, the College began
to place greater emphasis on graduate and research work. (See Chapters
IX and X. ) Reasoning that the high-quality faculty necessary to staff these
areas would automatically serve to enrich the undergraduate programs,
the administration began a concerted effort to recruit such persons. In
December 1961 Dr. Roger S. Hamilton, writing to Dr. James R. Surface of
the School of Business at the University of Kansas, remarked on the new
approach: "We have been commissioned by our President to add a net of
five members to our faculty for 1962-63. Each of these additions is to be
at the professorial level and is to possess the doctoral degree. . . . The
equivalent of four full-time faculty members will be used for additional
full-time staffing of the MBA program."8
At the same time, in the interest of broadening the undergraduate
curricula, new stress was laid on liberal arts courses, and a far wider range
of electives became available. In 1962 a language option was introduced,
and an honors program was initiated "to enrich the imagination, increase
the confidence, strengthen the determination and broaden the general
education of Northeastern students in the College of Business Admin-
istration."9
The result of these efforts did not go unrecognized. On April 27, 1962,
the Association of Collegiate Schools of Business withdrew its reservations,
and the College was duly accepted into membership. "It was," Dr. Knowles
later said, "a milestone in the history of Northeastern and a very important
step in the academic growth of the College of Business Administration."10
If the desire for accreditation served as a catalyst for the initial burst of
142 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
activity that characterized the College of Business Administration in the
early 1960s, the desire to continue that accreditation and further to secure
a place as one of the major colleges of business in the area informed the
subsequent years.
The trends that had been set in motion during the earlier period were
thus continued and expanded. Between 1959 and 1969 the faculty in-
creased from thirty to fifty-six, 62 percent of whom now held terminal
degrees; by 1976 that number was to further grow to sixty-three full-time
members, 73 percent of whom held terminal degrees. Curricula options
continued to expand: in 1964 a major in Economics leading to a B.A. as
well as a B.S. was introduced, thus increasing the concentrations available
in Business from five to six. More and more electives became available,
and by 1969 the curricula encompassed 50 percent liberal arts courses
and 50 percent management-oriented courses. Revisions in management
departments also allowed for greater flexibility in those areas. "We are,"
read the Annual Report of ig6g, "educating students to be effective man-
agers in organizations rather than training them narrowly to be specialists
in a departmental area."11
Despite the growing emphasis on general education, however, it
would be a mistake to assume that Northeastern, either overnight or at
any other time, abandoned its belief in the need for practical and spe-
cialized training. Its commitment to the concept of cooperative education
alone demonstrates otherwise. Two quotations, one from the Annual
Report of the Business College, April 1966, and another from Dr. Knowles
to Dean Harry Wilkinson, who had replaced Dean Roger S. Hamilton in
the spring of 1966 when the latter resigned to return to teaching, should
prove further correctives to any such misapprehensions:
We should capitalize on the uniqueness of Northeastern University's
approach to management education. Our greatest strength is our co-
op concept. We should build our pre-eminence on this strength and
never seek to imitate. Therefore, as our basic goal, we should strive
to become internationally recognized as the pre-eminent leader of an
accepted intellectual school of thought in management education
based on pragmatism and experience on the part of students and
faculty, [emphasis added]
and:
The strength of the University in the long run is in having courses in
the Co-op Program which are designed to provide professional prep-
aration in specialized fields. Most colleges and universities offer
courses and programs in the traditional fields. Looking ahead . . . the
private college will have a greater advantage in having highly spe-
cialized offerings.12
Expansion of Original Colleges and Lincoln Institute 143
In fact, in this very letter Dr. Knowles goes on to suggest a highly spe-
cialized course in franchise management, which, although subsequently
rejected as unfeasible, indicates the very practical direction of the ad-
ministrative thinking.
In 1967, two years after he had assumed the deanship of the College
of Business Administration, Dr. Wilkinson tendered his resignation on
grounds that he wished to go into his own business, and Dr. James Hek-
imian, who had graduated from the Harvard School of Business, had taught
at Northeastern, and was a member of the faculty at Sloan Institute at MIT,
assumed the role, and the College embarked on still further reforms in
the direction of overall growth.
In 1968 under Dr. Hekimian's direction, a new long-range plan was
developed that took into careful account both the College's resources and
the changing environment. Having determined that "in the greater Boston
area employment in non-manufacturing companies constituted even a
larger percentage of the labor force than in New York," the designers of
the long-range plan proposed that at Northeastern "even greater emphasis
should be placed on non-manufacturing and non-business careers in
administration."13 As a consequence, new concentrations were opened up
at the undergraduate level in international business, transportation man-
agement, and small business management.
Four years later still another all-College, long-range plan resulted in
a reorganization of the College, and further adjustments of the curriculum
were made to allow for even greater flexibility and the continuation of
an appropriate balance between general and specialized education.
As is evident from the above material, the undergraduate College of Busi-
ness experienced some dramatic changes, particularly in its curricula and
the general level of its offerings, between 1959 and 1975. The general
tenor of these changes was toward greater sophistication and greater
emphasis on broad, high-quality administrative skills as opposed to simple,
specific job-training skills. To accomplish this end, the College worked
throughout the period to attract to its faculty top men and women who
were not only able to impart such skills but were also innovative in their
thinking, ambitious for their discipline, and equipped to teach on both the
graduate and undergraduate level as well as to conduct research.
By 1973, however, it had become clear that if such a faculty were to
fully realize its potential, it could not do so within the conventional hi-
erarchical departmental structure. Consequently — and as was fitting for
a unit dedicated to imparting fresh administration ideas — the College
instituted a new organizational pattern on January 1, 1973.
144 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
The new pattern, which would later serve as a model for other in-
stitutions, was accomplished by separating the teaching/subject area from
the faculty support/personnel area. The former became the responsibility
of area coordinators, the latter of faculty group coordinators. The goal of
the new organization was to "simultaneously stimulate better teaching
and more effective research as well as to give each faculty member more
opportunity to participate in the decision process that affected his/her
area of interest."14
This latter goal might also be understood as a sign of the times.
Although the College was relatively unaffected by the recession that dra-
matically touched some of the other professional disciplines, particularly
engineering, it was, by its very nature, strongly influenced by new man-
agerial and administrative concepts, and it is significant that the College
of Business should be among the first of the basic colleges to encourage
both students and faculty to participate in its decision-making process.
Thus in 1967 a Student Advisory Committee was formed to provide a
continuing medium for communication between faculty and students. The
new faculty organization, in its turn, allowed for greater staff participation
in policy formulation and reflected the growing trend toward participatory
democracy in the administration of institutions.
By 1975 the College of Business Administration was the third largest
unit in the University. In its own words, it "had enjoyed a greater stability
in enrollment and a more even pattern of growth than other educational
units both inside and outside the University."15 Although such a bold
statement might be subject to some question, it is certainly true that
throughout the period the College did demonstrate an evenness of de-
velopment. Following initial accreditation, it marched steadily in the di-
rection of growth by adding faculty, students, and courses in accordance
with recommendations of the AACSB and demands of the profession but
always within the limits of its own ability to absorb and adjust to change
and without suffering any radical dislocation either in relation to the
University or itself.
By 1975, as stated above, there were 2,745 students.16 There were
approximately sixty-two full-time faculty as well as twenty-four part-time
appointments and a host of teaching assistants, introduced into the man-
agement courses in 1963 and into Finance and Insurance in 1967. There
was also a group of new courses designed to provide both specialization
and a broad background in liberal arts. In addition, the library for business,
which the initial accreditation board had viewed with some circumspec-
tion as containing only 4,800 volumes, had now swelled to over 53,000
Expansion of Original Colleges and Lincoln Institute 145
holdings, available to students in the several different locations where the
business courses were taught.
All in all, the years between 1959 and 1975 had proved relatively
benign and successful. It was a success that was corroborated by the 1962
achievement of undergraduate accreditation and the subsequent estab-
lishment of the College's first national business honor society, Beta Gamma
Sigma, which was controlled by the Association and which opened a Delta
Chapter at Northeastern on March 9, 1963; by the installation of Gamma
Nu, a chapter of Beta Alpha Psi, a national professional accounting society
in 1967; by the establishment of two endowed chairs, the Harold A. Mock
Professorship in Accounting and the Lillian L. and Harry A. Cowan Chair
in Accounting; by the continued reaccreditation of the undergraduate
College programs by the American Academy of Collegiate Schools of Busi-
ness (the name had been changed in the early 1970s); and by accreditation
of the graduate programs in 1973.
3
GROWTH OF THE COLLEGE OF ENGINEERING
On April 21, i960, Northeastern University observed the fiftieth an-
niversary of the founding of the College of Engineering and the establish-
ment of the Cooperative Plan of Education. It was, as one might well
imagine, a memorable occasion celebrated with appropriate pomp and
circumstance. A convocation held in Alumni Auditorium opened with an
impressive academic ceremony, followed by speeches and the awarding
of special citations to faculty, members of the administration, distinguished
alumni who had been former "co-op" students in the College of Engi-
neering, and three companies that had participated in the plan since that
first day in 1909 when eight men had enrolled in the cooperative engi-
neering course. "Currently there are 2,734 students enrolled in North-
eastern University's College of Engineering," said Dr. Knowles that
morning. "It has become the largest undergraduate Engineering College
in New England, and one of the largest among 214 in the United States."17
This statistic was impressive, and one could not help but applaud the
achievement of the past, but as the convocation audience filtered into the
April sunlight, the promise of the future looked even brighter. By i960
science and engineering had become the promised lands of education,
and it seemed as if there could be no limit to what could be achieved in
these areas by those who were willing to try. That Northeastern was more
than willing to try had been made clear in a letter from Dr. Knowles to
146 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
Lee H. Johnson, Chairman of the Engineers' Council for Professional De-
velopment on March 30, i960: "My purpose is to encourage the continued
growth of our College of Engineering in all aspects of its instructional and
research programs. Accordingly, we are making every effort to attract to
our faculty outstanding teachers and to provide them with the facilities
and the kind of students that will permit an increasingly fine quality of
engineering education at Northeastern University."18 Implicit in this par-
agraph was the recognition that the College, despite the outstanding
achievements cited at the anniversary celebration, needed some changes,
and explicit was the indication of what these changes would be.
In October i960 accreditation delegates for the ECPD, assessing the cur-
ricula of the College of Engineering, made the following comment:
The curricula appeared to be strongly oriented toward immediate
usefulness of graduates in industry. Although it should not be sug-
gested that the institution should do a complete about-face with regard
to this emphasis, it is likely that unless steps are taken to recognize
some of the present trends toward more basic education and accord-
ingly to modify engineering curricula . . . this institution might find
itself somewhat out of step in future years in engineering education.19
Northeastern, however, did recognize the trends and did not fall out
of step. One of the first moves that the new administration made to steer
the College away from the purely utilitarian aspect of the programs and
toward greater sophistication was the encouragement it gave to research
and graduate work. Although neither of these areas is the province of this
particular chapter (see Chapters IX and X), their development had a
profound effect on undergraduate education, and for this reason must be
mentioned here.
Reasoning that the upgrading of research and graduate work, which
by their very nature stressed the theoretical and analytical dimension of
a discipline, automatically would redound to the benefit of the under-
graduate programs, Dr. Knowles had authorized a faculty committee in
the fall of 1959 to study the potential for such development. Taking into
account the traditional strengths of the University, the potential for the
most rapid growth and change, and the accessibility of outside funding,
particularly from research contracts, the committee returned the verdict
that the doctoral program was entirely feasible for introduction in the
departments of Physics and Electrical Engineering in the College of En-
gineering and in the Department of Chemistry in the College of Liberal
Arts. On December 1, i960, then, the Board of Trustees voted "to authorize
Expansion of Original Colleges and Lincoln Institute 147
the President to establish doctoral programs in the fields of chemistry,
electrical engineering and physics, effective beginning with the academic
year 1961— 62. "20
In the meantime, and as if in anticipation of these conclusions, Dr.
Knowles had authorized Dean William T. Alexander of the College of
Engineering to make available four top-level positions in the Department
of Physics. Each of these positions carried with it the stipulation that the
holder, in keeping with U.S. norms for research professors, would have
one-third to one-half released time for his projects. The subsequent events
that followed on this move proved so paradigmatic of the relationship
between graduate-research work and undergraduate education that they
are worth recounting in full detail.
The designation of the new positions was unprecedented in the his-
tory of the College, and word quickly ran through the profession that
Northeastern was on the move. Soon after, Dr. Roy Weinstein and Dr.
Marvin H. Freidman, both of MIT, were recruited to fill two of these
positions. Both men were highly qualified and in the process of developing
national reputations. Both were attracted to Northeastern by the challenge
of setting up a totally new doctoral program. It soon became apparent to
them, however, that the challenge was even more extensive than they had
imagined and would entail a prior revision of undergraduate programs to
bring them abreast of other major departments in the country and equip
them to graduate persons capable of doctoral work. They tackled this task
with the full cooperation of all department members. As a consequence
of their united efforts, undergraduate curriculum was quickly expanded
to include within the space of two years such courses as quantum me-
chanics, thermodynamics, advanced laboratory, and advanced electromag-
netism. At the same time the faculty was augmented by the addition of
more new men, all of whom held terminal degrees. They had been at-
tracted to the University by competitive salaries, research opportunities,
and, perhaps even more important, by the spirit of growth that now per-
meated the Institution.
In short order it became evident that the combination of new men,
who brought with them a new concept of their discipline, the dedication
of older teachers, who were determined to do their best for the Institution,
and the wholehearted endorsement of the administration could work ac-
ademic magic. Although it is to jump ahead of our story, a brief account
of what the Physics Department achieved by 1975 indicates the degree of
that magic. By that time the faculty had expanded from approximately
twenty -five members in 1959 to approximately thirty-seven in 1975, almost
all of whom held the doctoral degree; research subsidy had catapulted
148 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
from an initial $200,000 to approximately $1,000,000 per annum. Two
members of the Department — Richard L. Arnowitt and Roy Weinstein —
had been recipients of the Guggenheim award. The doctoral degree had
been well established, and five postdoctoral positions, which are supported
by the federal government and are one of the best measures of a physics
department's national stature, had been given to Northeastern. Although
at first glance these achievements may seem more relevant to graduate
education and research than to undergraduate education, their effect on
the latter is implicit. As Ronald E. Scott, Dean of Engineering in 1966, was
to remark in reply to a questionnaire from the ECPD, "The process by
which the material . . . filters from the graduate programs to the under-
graduate is . . . well established." For Northeastern's Department of Phys-
ics, the "filtration" process meant that it had become one of the better
departments in the nation at all levels.21 In addition, it had found a focus.
In the early 1960s, largely because of the interests of its research faculty,
it had concentrated on the development of quantum physics; by the mid-
1960s, however, it was able to reserve thirteen positions for faculty in
solid state physics and thus offer top-quality, comprehensive education to
its students at all levels.
Physics was not, of course, the only department to experience such
growth during the 1960s and early 1970s. As previously stated, however,
it has been treated in such detail because its pattern so aptly illustrates
one way in which Northeastern's programs grew during this period. It is
a pattern that takes into account (1) the administrative support of graduate
work and research, (2) the authorization of top teaching/research positions
in those areas, (3) the revision of curricula at all levels in accordance with
the advice of the new men and the experience of older faculty, and (4)
ultimately, as a consequence of these factors, the achievement of monetary
reward, academic respectability, and national visibility.
In 1961 Dean William T. Alexander, who had served at Northeastern for
almost thirty years, retired. The final two years of his deanship of the
College of Engineering had been ones of particular excitement. As dem-
onstrated above in the example of the Department of Physics, the College
was on the move. A similar and very parallel growth was also occurring
in the Department of Electrical Engineering. In both instances the im-
provement of instruction followed on the approval of a doctoral program
and the subsequent enhancement of the faculty and curricula. Other de-
partments in the College were growing, too, as was evidenced by the
founding of the first departmental honor society, Alpha Pi Mu, in Industrial
Engineering and by the award of a $48,000 grant from the Atomic Energy
Expansion of Original Colleges and Lincoln Institute 149
Commission toward the establishment of nuclear laboratories and facilities
for studies in this field. It would be the task of the next dean to continue
this momentum.
In July 1961, Dr. Ronald E. Scott was appointed Dean of the College.
He was a man of unflagging energies and enthusiasm, and it was soon
apparent that there would be no lapse in the momentum under his jur-
isdiction. The next six years were to be a period of even greater achieve-
ments. Shortly after Dr. Scott assumed office, a memorandum was issued
that indicated the general thinking of the College:
Put greater emphasis on theoretical and analytical aspects of the basic
and the engineering sciences.
Mathematics should be given more stature in sense of being more
than a service department.
Research should be encouraged for staff professional development,
for involvement ... of best undergraduate students, and as a vital
factor in support of graduate education.22
Following this directive, plans were almost immediately put into place
for the beefing up of the Mathematics Department, which had lagged
behind the Department of Physics in growth despite the general feeling
that "high-level grounding in mathematics and physics ... is required of
those students going on to graduate school."23 Again following the general
pattern of development that was to pertain across the board, consideration
was given to the institution of a doctoral-level program. The Chairman of
the Department, Dr. Harold L. Stubbs, was authorized to fill top-level
research teaching positions at competitive salaries (three new men were
hired in 1963 alone). Course content underwent revision in the interest
of increasing sophistication, and a Master of Science in Mathematics was
introduced in 1962. The doctoral degree itself was finally established in
1965-
At the same time this pattern was also working itself out in other
departments — the doctoral program was initiated in Chemical Engineer-
ing in 1964 and in Mechanical Engineering in 1965. Again, in each instance,
the development of these graduate programs had an upgrading effect on
the undergraduate curricula. In fact, so clear was this effect that it is
explicitly cited in the 1966 report for reaccreditation to the ECPD as a
major reason for the College's overall curricula improvement: "It was
commented (in i960) that our curricula were strongly oriented towards
immediate usefulness in industry. The recent curriculum revision has been
a sweeping one and this charge is no longer true. . . . The new faculty
members who have been added in the past five years have been research
150 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
oriented and have possessed doctor's degrees. Much of the change in the
curriculum is a reflection of their new point of view."24
Change, however, cannot be attributed only to the introduction of
a "research-oriented faculty." The growth of area engineering industries,
particularly along Boston's circumferential highway, Route 128, had made
engineering one of the most attractive fields of higher education. The pool
of applicants to the College steadily increased, making possible greater
selectivity of students, which, in turn, allowed the College to raise the
minimum quality point average for graduation from 1.4 to 1.6 by 1966,
with 1.8 required in the major department.25
Responsiveness to the needs of industry also gave rise to new pro-
grams, especially a raft of new computer courses. One of the most out-
standing programs included a Power Systems option in Electrical Engineering
introduced in 1962. In addition, plans were forged for a new interdisci-
plinary program that recognized the link between engineering and the
medical profession. The plan went into effect in the fall of 1967 as the
Department of Biophysics and Biomedical Engineering. Giving further
impetus to change was the shift of the entire University to the quarter-
plan calendar in 1966. In the process the undergraduate curriculum of the
College was revised and repackaged with alterations in each subject area
being made by faculty committees, usually in consultation with engineers
in local industry.
Nor was growth confined to the Day College. In the early 1960s, the
B.S. in Electrical Engineering became available to evening students. This
was made possible by the same reorganization that had resulted in the
founding of University College. Although Engineering was not included
under University College, the extension of the day programs into the
evening, with the same faculty responsible for the same courses regardless
of time slot, opened the way for the accredited engineering degree to be
earned at night by part-time students.
Still another factor contributing to the growing prestige of the College
during the period was the dramatic improvements in facilities. The ad-
dition of new dormitories, begun in 1963 with the construction of Speare
Hall, allowed the College to select the entering class from a wider geo-
graphical area, thereby increasing the caliber of students. Having students
from a wider area also allowed for wider cooperative placement and thus
a choice of situations that would have superior training qualities.
Extensive remodeling in older facilities provided new laboratory
space for the five major undergraduate engineering departments of Civil,
Mechanical, Electrical, Chemical, and Industrial Engineering. New facilities
Expansion of Original Colleges and Lincoln Institute 151
included a soils laboratory (later modified to allow for environmental
studies), a wind tunnel, and a new analytical computer room. But perhaps
the most dramatic addition was the Charles A. Dana Building, a Physics-
Electrical Engineering Research complex that would house the depart-
ments of Physics and Electrical Engineering.
Altogether, the period between 1961 and 1967 was one of intense
intellectual ferment, experimentation, and expansion in the College. En-
rollment rose to an unprecedented 3,786, and the faculty swelled to 82. 26
Charters for the establishment of two more departmental honor societies,
Omega Chi Epsilon (for Chemical Engineering) and Chi Epsilon (for Civil
Engineering) were received in 1965, and the Northeastern Student Chapter
of the American Institute of Industrial Engineers became the recipient of
an award as the "best in the nation" in 1966. Nevertheless, the College
still had a ways to go to achieve status as a fully modernized, science-
oriented engineering college.
Despite the dramatic improvements in the Engineering courses, ac-
crediting inspectors were still demanding that "Northeastern University
must revise its engineering curriculum to fulfill the minimum requirement
of the ECPD with regard to humanistic-social studies." Dr. Knowles, writing
to Dr. Scott in the spring of 1966, was asking the Engineering faculty "to
seek new ways in which the humanistic-social content of the undergrad-
uate programs can be increased and to look into the question of raising
the quality point average for graduation."2*7
The task of fulfilling these demands, however, would fall to a new
dean. In the fall of 1966, Dr. Scott, who had been a highly popular and
successful dean, resigned to accept a position at a technical institution in
the Middle East, eventually moving to the University of Petroleum and
Minerals in Dhahran, Saudi Arabia. Gone were the days when appointments
could be made by administrative fiat and, while Professor William F. King
accepted the appointment of Interim Dean, a long and arduous search by
a faculty committee began for a permanent replacement. But if the search
was long and arduous, the result could not have been more fortunate. Dr.
Melvin Mark, the successful candidate, was a man of even temperament,
a firm commitment to high educational standards and, perhaps even more
important in light of what was to happen next, a person capable of wresting
from any situation the best it had to offer. What did happen next was that
the College underwent in rapid succession both the peak and slough of
its experiences during the entire period.
When Dean Mark took office, educational expansion was still riding
toward the crest, applications for enrollment were still flooding in, and
152 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
federal monies for research were still available. Capitalizing on these facts,
the College was able to expand the faculty from 82 to 107 by 1971. This
faculty expansion allowed for reduced teaching loads and encouraged
more research and professional activities. In addition, the humanistic-so-
cial studies content increased to 20 percent of its curriculum with no
ROTC credit allowed, and the minimum quality point average for grad-
uation was raised to 1.8, with 2.0 required in the major department.28 Thus
the demands of the ECPD were satisfied. These, however, were not the
only pressures being exerted on the College. The changing social, political,
and economic conditions of the country, which were taking place through-
out the 1960s, had resulted in an increasingly heterogeneous student body.
In an attempt to accommodate these changes, a new freshman year was
introduced in 1969. The idea was to take into account not only the average
student who might be expected to complete requirements in three quar-
ters but also the slower student who would now be allowed four quarters
to fulfill the same tasks. The plan also benefited the above-average student
who could now forge ahead to complete the freshman year in a single
quarter.
The willingness to be flexible and innovative, which was evident in
this program, was to stand the College in good stead over the next few
years. Between 1969 and 1973, the depressed national economy, coupled
with lower tuition rates in public institutions, suddenly exerted new pres-
sure on the College to attract and hold its students.
Partially as a result of the recession pressures and partially as a continuation
of its constant commitment to improve undergraduate programs, the Col-
lege was to introduce in the next few years several innovative changes
that paradoxically helped to improve the College during a period that
might easily have proved disastrous. These changes included the initiation
of a B.S. unspecified curricula in 1972, which was established especially
to attract and hold students whose objectives could not be achieved
through one of the existing structured professional programs. The new
curriculum allowed for coordinated studies in physical, life, and social
science as well as engineering, science, and mathematics. To this extent
these changes reflected the new "people" orientation that had become
the concern of many students.
During the same period Civil Engineering also added an environ-
mental option in direct response to the new concern over resources, and
Industrial Engineering developed a new Health Systems program reflecting
a growing interest in health sciences, while the Power Systems program
expanded in response to new energy demands. In addition, the number
Expansion of Original Colleges and Lincoln Institute 153
of electives was increased to allow for greater flexibility in serving student
needs, and a pass/fail option became available for students in two of their
human-social science electives. New degrees were also introduced, in-
cluding a new five-year program leading to a B.S. and M.S. degree, initiated
to accommodate the above-average student.
It was also during this period that the departments of Mathematics and
Physics voted to sever their organizational relationship with the College
of Engineering and become part of the College of Liberal Arts (see below).
The departments continued to serve the College, and the move had little
effect on the programs in Engineering. It did, however, serve to unify the
Engineering faculty and put the focus of the College exclusively on its
own specific professional goals.
In 1970 a reorganization of the relationship between Lincoln College
and the College of Engineering served to shore up the strengths of both
units. According to the new plan, which was partially the consequence
of an ECPD recommendation, the Associate Dean of the College of En-
gineering became the Director of Lincoln. The new affiliation meant that
the two units could be more closely coordinated. This made it possible
to restrict top applicants to Engineering, while those whose needs could
be better accommodated by a technical college would be automatically
admitted to Lincoln. Effectively, the change reduced the responsibility of
the College of Engineering to provide technology courses, which the
ECPD had criticized as alien to its purpose, and allowed the College to
give full attention to the development of theoretical and analytical pro-
grams. The reorganization also swelled the enrollments of Lincoln, while
improving the quality of incoming engineering freshmen, and simulta-
neously expedited the transfer of students from one unit to the other to
the advantage of all. Finally, it made possible the effective use of engi-
neering faculty who could also teach in Lincoln and thus stemmed the
tide of attrition that might otherwise have swept away many of the faculty.
As a result of these changes, coupled with an all-out effort on the part
of the faculty, who increasingly visited high schools to recruit, participated
in open houses for freshmen, and worked overtime to assure the effec-
tiveness and relevance of their courses, the College managed to weather
the recession, reaffirm its professional status, and maintain its standards.
There is no question, of course, that the problems of the recession had
been acute, problems exacerbated in Engineering by the drop in defense
contracts that decimated some firms and reduced hiring to a minimum
as the profession readjusted to a peacetime economy. By 1973 enrollment
in the College of Engineering had fallen from a 1969 peak of 3,943 to a
154 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
nadir of 2,362. And only a shift of staff from Engineering to Lincoln pre-
vented a corresponding attrition in the ranks of faculty. At the same time,
a cutback in research allotments from the federal government and the rise
in inflation also exacted its toll. Nevertheless, by 1973 many of the prob-
lems engendered by the flagging economy had leveled off. The Department
of Electrical Engineering summarizes the situation in the "College of En-
gineering Annual Report 1973-74":
We have managed to preserve many of the assets that we had at the
end of the "boom" years. Having now learned rather painfully that
the "good old days" will probably not return, we can decide in what
direction we would like to see the E[lectrical] Engineering] Depart-
ment develop in the future. One obvious direction is toward more
emphasis on "computer sciences" or "computer engineering," . . .
[and] another important trend in E.E. is the resurgence of interest in
the power field.29
Although pertaining directly to Electrical Engineering, the statement
expressed in broad outline the situation of the entire College. Having
emerged from the slough smaller and leaner, the College was no less
determined, in the words of Dean Mark, "to provide a quality engineering
education with a strong mathematics, science, engineering science and
design base, incorporating cooperative education as an important integral
part of the program . . . [and to provide] the student with an analytical
approach to problem solving and the potential for self-development in
accordance with future needs of the profession."30
As a testament to the success of this determination were the facts that
by 1975 enrollment had already rallied to reach 2,515, including 55—60
black freshmen and 106 women — a new high in both areas; each major
department was represented by a national honor society in addition to
representation of the entire College by Tau Beta Pi, the National Engi-
neering Honor Society installed at Northeastern in November 1941. The
library holding had expanded to almost 51,000 books and periodicals and
nearly a million microforms and micrographs in engineering fields.31 But
perhaps most significant of all, the ECPD had no further comment to make
about a "too utilitarian" curriculum or one lacking humanistic/social stud-
ies dimension. By 1975, despite the setbacks, the College had truly
achieved the coveted status of a "modern, science-oriented college." Left
behind forever was the image of itself as an undergraduate and somewhat
trade-oriented school.
4
THE GROWTH OF LINCOLN COLLEGE
Although in some respects Lincoln College, essentially an evening
part-time college, does not belong in a chapter devoted to the growth of
Expansion of Original Colleges and Lincoln Institute 155
Northeastern's basic day colleges, its history is so directly related to that
of the College of Engineering that its inclusion here must be considered
justified.
The remark of a 1958 graduate of the College of Engineering points
up that relationship: "Lincoln is now," he wrote in 1975, "what Engineering
was in my day." Although this observation may be somewhat exaggerated
and overlook the real difference in the purpose of the two units, it does
provide valuable insight into what happened at Lincoln between i960 and
1975. Namely, it became a baccalaureate degree-granting, fully accredited
undergraduate college. Included among the highlights of this transfor-
mation were the change of name from Lincoln Institute to Lincoln College,
the establishment of the B.S. with specification in technology (B.E.T.), the
extension of some Lincoln programs into the day Cooperative Plan of
Education, and finally the 1971 reorganization, mentioned above, which
brought together the administrative structures of Lincoln and the College
of Engineering.
The reasons for these changes are, of course, myriad and complex.
Certainly one cause was the prominence given to engineering and tech-
nology in the early 1960s, which put new pressure on technological
schools to expand and extend their curricula. Even more important than
such quantitative growth, however, was the qualitative change in tech-
nology itself, which substantially affected the type of programs that tech-
nological institutions offered and made necessary a clarification of their
aims and directions. Professor Hollis S. Baird of Lincoln, asked to comment
on historical events that had most affected his College since the 1950s,
supports this claim, attributing major change to three factors: (1) the rise
of television after World War II, (2) the development of the transistor in
place of the vacuum tube, and (3) the growth of the calculator and com-
puter, digital electronics, and integrated circuits.32
To the layman, used to thinking in terms of social, economic, and
political causality, such a litany may at first be unsettling. Nevertheless,
even though such terminology may be unfamiliar, it is not difficult to
perceive Professor Baird's point — that changes in the nature of technology
itself, as much as any other single event, shaped the growth and increasing
sophistication of institutions like Lincoln, whose function it was to transmit
the new technology.
In 1959 Lincoln College, or Lincoln Institute as it was then called, had
been in existence thirty-two years, although its roots can be traced to one
of Northeastern's earliest units, the Polytechnic School, founded in 1904.
The Lincoln Institute Catalog ^30—31 describes its genesis: "Lincoln
Institute was established in 1927 by the Board of Governors of North-
eastern University whose actions were the outcome of a desire to offer
156 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
engineering programs on a semi-professional level in the evening to em-
ployed men who were already working in the fields of engineering. Prior
to this date there had been in existence since 1904 the Evening Poly-
technic, which offered three year courses in Engineering. These courses
formed the nucleus of Lincoln Institute."33 At this point the Institute's
four-year courses led only to the diploma, although credit was also ac-
corded toward the B.B.A. degree in Northeastern's Evening School of
Commerce and Finance. By 1940 work was also credited toward the title
of Associate of Engineering, and by 1955 the Institute, itself, was providing
two degrees: an Associate in Engineering in five areas and an Associate of
Science in one.
Much of the credit for Lincoln's expansion during this later period,
the 1940s and 1950s, must go to Dean Donald H. MacKenzie, who had
begun serving as Dean in 1946. It was his contention that the Institute
should provide programs midway between the craft activities of the tech-
nician and the complex and abstract activities of the professional engineer.
Under his direction programs were planned "to train engineering aides
who can assist professional engineers in design, computation, supervision,
testing, etc.," while curricula were taught at the junior college level "in
that they emphasize the academic rather than the manual skills."34
This, then, was the situation that prevailed at Lincoln when Dr.
Knowles became President. In a sense, however, Lincoln was also at a
crossroads. The ECPD was beginning to suggest that technical institute
curricula contain more artisan-type programs, thus distinguishing them
from that provided by colleges of engineering. At the same time the tech-
nical and scientific needs of the engineering and electronic industries
were beginning to boom along Route 128, and more opportunities were
arising for persons trained in technology at a more sophisticated level. It
was the unanimous contention of Lincoln's faculty that to accede to the
ECPD would undermine the true aims of Lincoln and that, indeed, the
increasing complexity of technology demanded more, rather than less,
analytical training.
Dr. Knowles heartily supported this view. In fact it was very much
his feeling that Lincoln should increase the scope of its activities, taking
full advantage of the technological boom by expanding rather than con-
tracting its sphere of activities. With his encouragement, then, Lincoln
Institute moved in the early 1960s to change its name to Lincoln College,
a name more in keeping with its academic orientation. Such a change was
in some ways more symbolic than substantive, for it did not in itself affect
the programs, but it did serve to underscore the College's direction and
Expansion of Original Colleges and Lincoln Institute 157
make clear that it did not wish, at this point, to be evaluated by the ECPD.
The argument was presented to the Board of Trustees, and on February
8, 1963, the Board approved the name change.35
In 1964 Dean MacKenzie, who had served Lincoln so ably for almost two
decades, was forced to step down because of ill health. Gustav S. Rook,
who had come to Northeastern in the early 1950s and was currently serving
as Chairman of the Department of Graphic Sciences, assumed the deanship.
Dean Rook's term corresponded with a period of rapid growth in
technology, a growth reflected in Lincoln's enrollments, which went from
3,035 in the fall of 1964 to a peak of 4,067 in 1969, and in Lincoln's programs.
Between 1964 and 1970 the college expanded its programs to encompass
the broad areas of Applied Science and Technology, Allied Health Tech-
nology, and Commercial Aviation Technology. Of course, it continued to
offer Engineering Technology, its primary instructional area. In response
to the Greater Boston industrial and technological community, it also
began to offer courses outside of Boston at the surburban campus in
Burlington and in rented facilities in Framingham, Weymouth, Lynn, Nor-
wood, and even as far north as Nashua, New Hampshire. In addition, it
provided a greater number of programs that would be of interest to
women, such as those in allied health; as a consequence, female enrollment
rose from 38 in 1964 to a peak of 507 in 1969.36
Although these changes were substantial, the greatest tribute to the
new stature that Lincoln acquired during the 1960s was manifest in the
baccalaureate degree-granting power accorded it in 1966. Professor Wil-
liam F. King, who became Director of the College in 1970, attributes the
power to grant these degrees — the Bachelor of Engineering Technology
and the Bachelor of Science in Industrial Technology (given in conjunction
with University College) — to two factors: "Nationwide there was a trend
to extend technically oriented programs to the baccalaureate level because
there was still plenty for these students to learn, not least of which was
to acquire greater depth in the humanistic and social science programs.
In addition, a substantial number of our own students who had earned
the associate degree felt the need and desire to go on further."37
The new degrees effectively recognized the legitimacy of technolog-
ical studies as academic rather than vocational disciplines and also rec-
ognized the growing sophistication of the field. This recognition was
further substantiated in 1970 when it became possible for qualified holders
of the Bachelor of Engineering Technology to transfer to the College of
Engineering and earn a Bachelor of Science with specification. In 1969,
158 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
following the awarding of the first B.E.T. degrees in Electrical and Me-
chanical Engineering Technology, the Engineering Technology Committee
of the ECPD granted these programs full accreditation, and two years later,
following graduation in other options, it granted full accreditation to all
Lincoln's baccalaureate programs that existed at the time.
Thus by 1968—69, one decade after Dr. Knowles had assumed office,
Lincoln was providing the Associate in Engineering in eight options and
the Bachelor of Engineering Technology in four. In conjunction with
University College, it was also providing the Associate in Science in five
options (including Chemical-Biological, Mathematical-Physical, Commer-
cial Aviation, and Radiological Technology, all of which had been added
during the period) and the Bachelor of Science in three options (Chemical-
Biological, Cyto-technology, and Medical Technology). Altogether these
programs represented a 233 percent increase over those available in
1958—59. The College had come a long way, but it was still on the move.
Dean Rook died suddenly on June 10, 1970. As evidenced above, his admin-
istration had been characterized by the steady expansion of the College
during an era when technology had been undergoing some of its most
dramatic changes. His charge had been to keep the College abreast of
these changes, and this he had done. Some of the new programs had been
frankly experimental in an age of experiment and would not survive into
the next decade; nevertheless, they had clearly demonstrated Lincoln's
willingness and ability to serve the needs of a changing constituency. It
was a willingness that was also manifest in the increased occupational and
academic counseling that became available to students during this period
and in the greater flexibility allowed the students in the choice of both
their required and elective courses.38
In the fall of 1970, Professor William F. King, who had been serving
as Associate Dean of Faculty, resigned his post to take over as Acting Dean
of Lincoln. The following year he was appointed Director. His appointment
coincided with the organizational change that was taking place between
Lincoln College and the College of Engineering. Henceforth, as mentioned
above, the Director of Lincoln College would hold a dual position, serving
also as Associate Dean in the College of Engineering.
The reorganization was significant. During the experimental 1960s,
Lincoln had branched into essentially nonengineering areas — for example,
cyto-technology and medical technology. It was the feeling of Dean King
and many of his peers that the College had now reached the point where
there should again be a reaffirmation of the link between engineering and
technology. This feeling was shared by the Engineering branch of the
Expansion of Original Colleges and Lincoln Institute 159
ECPD, which even as early as 1966 had cited the ambiguity of the rela-
tionship between the two units as being a problem, the solution of which
could only redound to the benefit of both.
Thus Professor King came to the College determined to reassert the
primacy of hard technology, and he came at a time just when this sort of
commitment was being demanded not only by professional associations
but also by the economic situation, which was placing engineering in an
increasingly beleaguered position. By supporting basic engineering tech-
nology as the cornerstone of all technology, by promoting computer tech-
nology, and by encouraging the close relationship between the engineer
and the technologist, Lincoln was able to absorb and provide for many
students and faculty who might otherwise have been totally displaced by
the recession.
In a sense, Dean King's policy was a "back to basics" policy, a fore-
runner of an approach that would grow increasingly popular as the decade
commenced. Frankly worried about what he saw as "splinter degrees" —
that is, degrees granted in majors that might too closely reflect passing
interests but that did not have sufficient follow-through — he pushed for
the consolidation of courses under the more standard instructional fare
of Electrical and Mechanical Engineering Technology. But perhaps even
more significant for the future of the College than this philosophical shift
away from the experimental toward the tried and true, was the support
now given to the establishment of day cooperative programs, which were
subsequently begun in the fall of 1971, with day B.E.T. options available
in Mechanical and Electrical Engineering Technology.
The motivation behind this revolutionary move was threefold and
has been summed up by Dean King:
There was a market. The continued success of the evening programs
and the growing applications to the College of Engineering of students
who lacked the background in math and physics to qualify for that
discipline but nevertheless were interested in the general field sug-
gested this. There was a faculty available to teach day courses. The
reduction in the size of entering classes in Engineering had created
a modest surplus of faculty time which could not be readily absorbed
in existing research efforts. There was the know-how. The curricula
was in place in the evening, to adapt it for the day was merely a matter
of repackaging.39
Thus in 1971, Lincoln became the ninth cooperative day college. In
the next four years it was to expand and develop its offerings, particularly
in the area of computer technology, which was destined to become one
of its major areas of study. It continued to explore ways of meeting new
l6o ACADEMIC EXPANSION
demands by introducing a nondegree pretechnology program for students
who required more training before embarking on degree courses and by
expanding its interdisciplinary science and engineering technology pro-
grams to include such courses as Fire Technology and Environmental
Control Technology. The main thrust of its efforts, however, was to assure
that all its graduates were sufficiently broadly and deeply educated to
serve as the pivot-persons on the professional-technologist-craftsman
team. The success of this policy was evident in continually growing en-
rollments, which by 1975 had reached 148 in the day program and 2,360
in the evening program.40
5
GROWTH OF THE COLLEGE OF EDUCATION
The third basic day cooperative college, which had been in place
when Dr. Knowles assumed office and which was to come to full maturity
during the 1960s, was the College of Education. Again, its history reflects
both the changing demands of the profession, which it was designed to
serve, and the new perception of itself that the University was to come
to hold during the period.
The changing demands of the profession were largely represented by
a shift from the concept of educational training as a way to prepare teachers
simply to take their place in elementary and secondary school classrooms
to a wider concept of educational training as a way to prepare specialists
at many levels and in many areas, including administration, special edu-
cation, rehabilitation education, reading, and speech and hearing coun-
seling. These new demands were to exert particular influence on the
curriculum of the College. Simultaneously, Northeastern's perception of
itself as a major university, destined to serve not only limited local needs
but extensive and sophisticated national needs as well, would manifest
itself in the College's all-out efforts to improve the quality of its offerings
and to secure full accreditation by the nationally recognized National
Council for the Accreditation of Teacher Education.
Perhaps the most graphic illustration of this change is inherent in the
contrast between the 1950s genesis of the College as recounted by Dr.
William C. White and its status in 1967 as reflected in its application for
accreditation:
It was 1953 [reminisces Dr. White in accounting for the birth of the
College], and we had just closed the Law School and were looking
for something to replace it when Dr. Ell struck upon the idea of a
Expansion of Original Colleges and Lincoln Institute 161
College of Education. With the influx of students into the elementary
and secondary schools as a result of the post-war baby boom, edu-
cation had become a growing field. "And why shouldn't we train
persons to take their place in it?" reasoned Dr. Ell. So we got out as
many college catalogs as we had and searched around to find ourselves
a Dean, someone who looked as if he might be able to get just such
a college in shape.41
Dr. White and Dr. Ell did indeed find a dean, in the person of Lester S.
Vander Werf, an ambitious and enthusiastic educator who was then em-
ployed at the University of New Hampshire but who was intrigued by the
notion of coming to Boston to establish a totally new institution in his
field.
Although this story has undoubtedly been simplified by time, never-
theless, it serves as an appropriate illustration of just how casually North-
eastern could sprout in that earlier and easier age. Dean Vander Werf
proved to be a farseeing administrator with very firm ideas on how such
a college should be operated. To him is justly attributed the philosophical
and professional foundation that persists even to this day. Thus despite its
almost casual beginning, the new College did sprout and flourish. By the
time of its first accreditation application in 1967 — an application that was
to require over a hundred closely typed pages to encompass both its aims
and achievements — it could boast five separate departments, a staff of
twenty-fwo faculty and eight administrators, and an enrollment of 957
undergraduates and 960 graduate students.42
Such expansion, of course, did not occur overnight. In its first year
the College of Education employed, in addition to Dr. Vander Werf, only
one other faculty member, Professor E. Lawrence Durham, who was to
remain with the College for the next several decades. These two men
presided over the handful of professional courses that were offered to
both undergraduates and part-time graduate students — the College had
begun with a master's as well as a baccalaureate program. The basis of the
curriculum at both levels was the social sciences (mainly psychology,
sociology, history, and anthropology) and the humanities (particularly
English and philosophy). This was in keeping with Dr. Vander Werfs
contention that a solid training in the foundational and liberal arts areas
was necessary to provide the kind of broad base essential to a truly profes-
sional educator.43
A standard element in all teacher education programs is, of course,
student-teaching experience, and the cooperative plan offered a chance
for undergraduates to enlarge on this aspect of their training. Initially,
however, because of limited opportunities the plan was optional and se-
l62 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
lective: a number of local schools agreed to let the most mature and able
of the College's second-year students participate in an internship expe-
rience at their institutions. Personnel from the cooperating schools be-
came involved in curriculum planning, and the student enjoyed unique
opportunities to tutor, supervise, and actually teach.
Dr. Leonard J. Savignano, who had joined the faculty in 1955, provided
direction and leadership for this program as well as for regular student-
teaching programs. In 1957 he was succeeded by Professor Charles F.
Haley, who enlarged and strengthened the internship concept. Finally, in
1965 the internship program was merged with the Cooperative Education
Department, and all College of Education students were henceforth re-
quired to follow the five-year cooperative plan that allowed every student
to benefit from early involvement in an actual school setting.
By 1957 the faculty had grown to six members, with Dr. Frank Marsh,
Jr. joining the staff in 1956 and Mary J. Lee and Thomas Cavanagh in 1957.
But the real explosion in numbers and in offerings did not occur until the
1960s. Then, encouraged by the new administration and by the sudden
apotheosis of education that had followed in the wake of Sputnik, the
College of Education was suddenly to find itself the focus of new and
almost feverish attention.
The degree of this fever can perhaps best be adjudged by two mem-
oranda. The first, Long-Range Proposals, formulated by Dr. Vander Werf
in June i960, suggested the extent and range of the College's ambitions.
Listed among its plans were seven goals. One of these goals was the
establishment of an Educational Program Research Center that would
comprehend advanced preparation for teachers, new courses and new
staff, and a series of laboratories or clinics in such areas as speech and
hearing, secondary mathematics, teaching the emotionally disturbed, and
teaching the handicapped. Other goals included the development of grad-
uate education into new fields of guidance, special education, and instruc-
tional leadership, the expansion of graduate degrees to include the
Certificate of Advanced Education and the Doctorate of Education, the
extension of the internship program, and the acquisition of professional
accreditation.44 According to the proposal, all of these goals were to be
achieved by the mid-1960s.
The second memorandum, however, which was sent by Dr. Vander
Werf to Dr. White shortly after the former had attended an American
Association for Teacher Education (AACTE) convention in March 1961,
indicates the pressure to which such ambitions could give rise. Appended
Expansion of Original Colleges and Lincoln Institute 163
to the memorandum, which summarized the drift of the convention, is
this almost desperate notation: "Our program falls far short of what it
ought to be. Frankly, I am running scared."45
Such fears, however, hardly took into account the energy of the grow-
ing College of Education or the encouragement of the administration,
which was determined to spare no effort in helping the College achieve
its potential. And by 1966, when Dr. Vander Werf, after a dozen years of
service, finally decided to step down, gigantic steps had already been taken
in the fulfillment of these aims. The scope of the College had been broad-
ened considerably. Five departments had been organized: Foundations of
Education, 1959; Curriculum and Instruction, 1963; Reading, 1966 (merged
with Curriculum and Instruction, 1972); Counselor Education, 1966; and
Rehabilitation and Special Education, 1966. The faculty, as noted above,
had expanded dramatically, and the enrollment had increased at both the
graduate and undergraduate level by some 400 percent. Nevertheless,
when Dr. Frank Marsh, Jr. was appointed to the post of Acting Dean in
1965 and permanent Dean in 1966, a great deal remained to be done.
Philosophically, the new Dean shared many of the convictions of his pre-
decessor. Like Dr. Vander Werf, he too believed that a good grounding in
the social sciences and humanities was an essential prerequisite for a
meaningful professional degree. He also believed that the Cooperative
Plan of Education was a central element in training educators at both the
graduate and undergraduate level, and that the goals formulated in the
i960 Long-Range Planning Proposal were valid and desirable. The change
in the administration, therefore, did not signal a sharp philosophical break
with the past. Dr. Vander Werf s strength, however, had been in his vi-
sionary7 ability to perceive what should be done, and Dr. Marsh's strength
lay in his ability to see that it was done. Thus the next two years were to
witness a flurry of activity that resulted in the final implementation of
many of the plans that had been lying fallow in 1965.
In 1966, for example, during the period of transition between the two
deans, three of the departments cited above were formed. Their estab-
lishment, which allowed for more specialized majors, immediately satisfied
one of the requirements stipulated at the 1961 AACTE meeting. At the
same time many of the graduate programs, courses, laboratories, and clin-
ics originally proposed by Dr. Vander Werf became operational. Elemen-
tary Science and Mathematics, Speech Pathology and Audiology, and
Vocational Rehabilitation Administration were added to the graduate ros-
164 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
ter in 1966; and Educational Research, Secondary Mathematics, and Teach-
ing the Emotionally Disturbed were added in 1967.
Also in 1966, the Speech and Hearing Clinic, under the direction of
Robert J. Ferullo, was finally created as the basis for specialized programs
in that area and was soon approved by the American Speech and Hearing
Association. The Center for Reading Improvement, later called the Reading
Clinic, under Dr. Melvin Howards was also opened. Both clinics provided
invaluable clinical and laboratory experience for students. In addition, the
Reading Clinic functioned as an important outreach into the community
by serving approximately five hundred clients per year in the Greater
Boston area.
This was, indeed, a time of outward expansion for the College. A
perfect example occurred in 1966 when, as the Annual Report mentions,
a Center for Educational Development was established "to conduct and
administer special projects, such as the Fund for the Advancement of
Education, intern and summer institute programs, the Commonwealth Ser-
vice Corps Master Tutor training program, VISTA training programs, and
the Youth Education program (for high school dropouts)." The effect of
these programs was not only to reinforce the ties between the community
and the College but also to provide increased training opportunities for
students and give greater range to their overall education.
Perhaps the greatest triumph of Dr. Marsh's early administration was
the final attainment of accreditation from the National Council for Accred-
itation of Teacher Education in 1967. With its programs thus accorded
national recognition, the College had achieved full maturity, and the future
task became one of fulfilling the responsibilities of that maturity.
Between 1968 and 1975, in keeping with the ever-broadening view
of the function of colleges of education, Northeastern's College of Edu-
cation began to add new programs and courses and to vastly expand its
scope and range. In 1968 an Educational Administration Department was
added, and in 1973, in response to a need for increased specialization,
Speech Pathology and Audiology, previously under the Department of
Rehabilitation and Special Education, became a department in its own
right.
By 1970 the College of Education had reached a peak of over 1,300
undergraduate students and 1,001 graduates, with a full-time faculty of 55,
the vast majority of whom held terminal degrees.46 The growing sophis-
tication of the faculty was, not surprisingly, matched by a growth in so-
phistication in course offerings, especially in the extension of graduate
and research work. In 1970-71 the Certificate of Advanced Graduate Study,
a certificate midway between the master's and the doctorate, became
Expansion of Original Colleges and Lincoln Institute 165
available, and in 1974 the Doctorate of Education was introduced. (See
Chapter IX.) Both of these degrees, although directly pertinent only to
graduate education, affected undergraduate education in that they neces-
sitated an increase in library holdings that were needed for graduate work
but that were usable at all levels. They also required the employment of
highly skilled faculty who were essential for graduate programs but who
could also teach at the undergraduate level. And finally, opening the door
to research provided opportunities for undergraduates as well as graduates.
Nevertheless, although the picture in the early 1970s was rosy, it was
not without problems. The tide of enrollments resulting from the postwar
baby boom was already receding, and, more important, the lowered birth-
rate was causing a sharp cutback in employment opportunities in the
classrooms of elementary and secondary schools. To offset this declining
need for teachers, the College set about both to expand its constituency
and to prepare professionals who could serve in a wider range of edu-
cational roles. The 1973 creation of the Bureau of Field Services under
the direction of Harold A. Miner, Associate Professor of Science Education,
extended the College into the schools and community at large, where it
offered both credit and noncredit workshops, institutes, and seminars.
Thus a new student group was attracted to the University. The creation
of the Department of Educational Administration and the expanded of-
ferings in special education helped to broaden the College's scope, as did
the encouragement given to new programs to train counselors, cooper-
ative education personnel, and community health workers. But one of the
most innovative ways that the College devised to hold and attract students
was the Human Services program, which was designed, in conjunction
with the College of Liberal Arts and the College of Criminal Justice in the
early 1970s to prepare professional human service workers. The program
reflected the growing desire of young people "to serve others" and clearly
demonstrated both the sensitivity of the College to the changing needs
of its environment and its broadened understanding of its function.
In 1975, Dr. Marsh, writing about education science and teacher train-
ing noted:
During the past several decades this field has grown substantially in
comprehensiveness and complexity. . . . [Teacher Education] no
longer deals solely with training the young in communication skills.
A more fitting definition is that teacher education includes all studies
and experiences that are necessary to prepare a person to teach, to
organize learning experiences, to administer educational institutions,
or to provide supportive services for the learning process at all levels. 4~
Certainly, the growth of the College of Education at Northeastern between
l66 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
1959 and 1975 directly illustrates one institution's attempt to fulfill these
new requirements.
6
GROWTH OF THE COLLEGE OF LIBERAL ARTS
Although all of the colleges discussed above have differed substantially
in their details, they have had in common one basic element — all were
designed to prepare students to enter specific professions. Against this
background the College of Liberal Arts, which by its very nature is ded-
icated primarily to general education, stands out sharply. Such a contrast,
of course, exists at any multifaceted university. At Northeastern, however,
because of the University's own particular history and mission, this con-
trast has had a unique effect, throwing into highlight some aspects of
liberal arts that have not been emphasized at other institutions and soft-
ening others that have.
Northeastern was, of course, founded to prepare students — many of whom
came from families of modest resources — to assume meaningful positions
in the working world. This mission was manifest in the development of
its first day schools — Engineering, 1909; Business, 1922 — and was under-
scored by its commitment to the Cooperative Plan of Education. By the
early 1930s, however, it had become apparent that if these schools were
to be truly competitive at the baccalaureate level, if they were truly to set
their students on the path to widespread professional acceptability, then
they must provide a wider selection of general education courses. As a
consequence, Dr. Ell determined that a School of Liberal Arts should be
added to Northeastern, although some members of the governing board
objected on grounds that such disciplines could hardly be expected to
conform to the principles of cooperative education.48 Dr. Ell's ideas pre-
vailed, however, and in the fall of 1935 a School of Arts and Sciences was
opened, largely to satisfy the demands of business and engineering.
It was a maverick beginning for such a unit. In almost every other
major university, liberal arts had come first, and professional schools were
added at a later date. In the development of Northeastern, however, this
process was reversed: professional courses preceded general education.
If out of step with traditional education development, this process, none-
theless, was very much in step with the basic principle of the Institution —
to prepare young men (and later young women) to assume positions in
the professions. As a consequence, Northeastern's College of Arts and
Sciences had from its inception a service-oriented cast — a cast initially
Expansion of Original Colleges and Lincoln Institute 167
reinforced by the fact that almost all of the departments were formed
simply by siphoning off programs from other units and transferring faculty.
Not surprisingly, the sciences and social sciences dominated the new
College, providing six of the seven possible concentrations. Programs were
limited almost exclusively to those that would be pertinent to engineers
and businessmen. In fact four of the majors offered that first year — eco-
nomics, chemistry, mathematics, and physics — remained administratively
related to the Colleges of Business Administration and Engineering, where
they were treated as tools of those fields rather than as disciplines in their
own right. The two other possible majors in the sciences/social sciences
areas — sociology and psychology — although under the aegis of the new
College, were in fact little more than expanded versions of previous pro-
grams. This was equally true of other departments. Biology and Geology
laid heavy stress on their engineering functions, with Geology encom-
passing little more than surveying. Government and History, weaned from
the College of Business Administration, became two departments under
the new structure, with Asa S. Knowles assuming responsibility for gov-
ernment courses and Roger S. Hamilton for history. The content of both
programs, however, remained largely as before, as did the content of Dr.
White's education courses.
The situation in the humanities was even more ambivalent. The very
nature of these disciplines, which stressed general principles over spe-
cialized skills, made it difficult to fit them into a pattern of immediately
perceivable usefulness. In English, which was the seventh possible major,
one-third of the curriculum was devoted to basic writing and public speak-
ing (considered a requisite for businessmen). Other courses provided
little more than cultural touchstones, the symbols as much as the substance
of the "educated man." Thus Chaucer and Shakespeare were provided but
there was no Milton. There was no comparative literature aside from one
catchall course entitled "Great European Writers," which promised to pro-
vide "a background for later studies in comparative literature" (not of-
fered), and all of poetry was relegated to a single nineteenth-century
survey that swept from Pope to Tennyson.49 Yet, in spite of the meagerness
of these offerings, altogether they represented a 125 percent increase from
what had been available previously.
Other programs offered as minors in humanities during these early
years included French and German, both useful in business or engineering.
There was, however, no Latin or Greek, those venerable staples of liberal
arts colleges that can trace their roots to seventeenth- and eighteenth-
century divinity schools but that have little currency in modern profes-
sional life. Graphic arts, originally in Engineering, became Graphic Arts
l68 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
and Art History. Fleshing out the remaining humanities curricula was a
Department of Philosophy, expanded from a single course originally of-
fered as an aspect of sociology by the University's chaplain, Dr. Charles
W. Havice.
If the demands of the business and engineering constituency, how-
ever, contributed one dimension to the character of the College, the
tension between its divided aims created another. On the one hand, the
College was committed to liberal arts education, which differed funda-
mentally from professional education. Charles Frankel, then President of
the National Humanities Center, while discussing the humanities, very
precisely defined this distinction: "The humanities are not, except inci-
dentally, the repositories of an art's or profession's techniques for doing
things successfully. . . . They are the disciplines that comment on and
appraise such activities, that reflect on their meanings and seek to clarify
the standards by which they should be judged."50 On the other hand,
there was the College's commitment to the University as a whole, which
was dedicated to providing just such "techniques."
It was the sort of situation that might justifiably have led to schizo-
phrenia, or at least a paralyzing lack of concensus. But it is a tribute to the
first dean, Dr. Wilfred S. Lake, 1935—1967, and to the second, Dr. Robert
Shepard, 1968— 1977, that it did not lead there but rather to a unique effort
to synthesize these demands — to give to the practical and specialized
some dimension of the general, and to give to the abstract and general
some sense of its specialized and utilitarian value — and to develop a Col-
lege of Liberal Arts as a distinct and autonomous entity.
In the science and social sciences, the problem of divided aims was
somewhat less acute than in the humanities. Nevertheless, at least in the
early years, there was a degree of seesawing as the College sought to
clarify its direction. The first catalog emphasizes practicality in an almost
aggressive, if not defensive, fashion: "Studies at Northeastern's College of
Arts and Sciences — without sacrificing their liberal values — should pre-
pare the student definitely for a useful career." The second catalog em-
phasizes general education almost to the exclusion of the practical:
The curricula at Northeastern's College of Liberal Arts has been de-
signed to instruct men in the art of living and to lay down a systematic
foundation of knowledge upon which, as graduates, they may continue
with more specialized training either by formal graduate study or by
independent learning and experience. Liberal as this program is, how-
ever, it develops for the students general practical values. In the first
Expansion of Original Colleges and Lincoln Institute 169
place, each course, whether it be Ancient History or English Com-
position, is presented as a key to problems actually confronting mod-
ern man. . . .
By 1941, however, a synthesis had been arrived at that came to characterize
the College: "In providing the means to a liberal education the College
of Liberal Arts at Northeastern has had a threefold objective: first the
development of intellectual capability; second, development of a well-
rounded personality; and third, preparation for a vocation."51
In the meantime, the name of the College had been changed from
Arts and Sciences to Liberal Arts, as if to suggest a continuity of spirit
among all the disciplines; a liberal arts honors program had been intro-
duced, which recognized that students within the College deserved credit
for their achievements within its own disciplines; and finally the B.A. had
been instituted in place of the B.S., which gave a new validity to the
general education aspect of the curricula.
Over the next twenty years, the College moved rapidly toward in-
creased independence and self-actualization. Although it retained, and
would always retain, the notion of service to other units as a legitimate
function, it had also begun to develop departments, majors, and courses
that had their own innate liberal arts value. By 1959 Drama, Speech and
Music had become a new department, and a Department of Art united
courses previously offered as Graphic Arts and History of Art. Three new
fields of concentration were also available — biology, history, and modern
languages. English courses alone trebled, while Spanish was added to the
modern language curricula. At the same time, courses that were only
pertinent to business or engineering were either modified to have a wider
reference or returned to their college of origin. Surveying, for example,
was dropped from the Department of Geology and replaced by more
general courses. Even more significant was the recognition that chemistry
could have two distinct functions. The components relevant to engineer-
ing became part of the Department of Chemical Engineering in that Col-
lege, and an entirely separate Department of Chemistry was established
in Liberal Arts in the 1940s and was promptly accredited by the American
Chemical Society's Committee on Professional Training.
Further underscoring the independent identity of the College was
the addition of master's degree programs. By 1959 the master's degree was
available in seven areas — chemistry, biology, English, history, political
science, psychology, and physics. The faculty had also increased, growing
from an initial twenty in 1935 to sixty-seven in 195952 These figures
170 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
exclude faculty in the Department of Economics, who were counted as
members of the College of Business Administration, and faculty in the
departments of Mathematics and Physics, who were retained by the Col-
lege of Engineering. This anomalous condition, where degrees were
awarded in one college but the courses administered by others, remained
a vestigial relic of the past and was not corrected until the late 1960s and
early 1970s.
During the first twenty years, the College also began to discover the
professional dimensions of its own fields and to provide concentrations
that would lead to careers apart from engineering and business. By 1959
the Department of English was providing a major in journalism, while
students in the basic sciences or social sciences might take special premed-
ical, predental, and prelegal programs. Altogether these activities repre-
sented a substantial achievement. Nevertheless, the image of the College
still remained relatively faint, and few students came to Northeastern with
the express intent of majoring in humanities or social sciences in the
College of Liberal Arts.
The problem confronting the new administration in 1959, then, was to
assure the continued growth of the College, to give it a new visibility, and,
without violating its own aims and traditions, to keep it abreast of the
anticipated expansion and improvement of the professional colleges. As
far as the sciences were concerned, this was to be no problem at all.
The Development of the Sciences. In his inaugural address, Dr.
Knowles had pledged that the University should grow and improve within
the limits of its own traditions and within the limits of fiscal responsibility.
No area in the University lent itself as well to the fulfillment of these aims
as the sciences. As stated above, the historical tendency of the College of
Liberal Arts had been to develop scientific fields. Initially the spark had
been provided by the needs of engineering. By the end of World War II,
however, the increasing nationwide stress on basic science had prompted
the College to develop a biology major and an independent Chemistry
Department. Now, as a result of Sputnik, the conditions for the expansion
of these disciplines were even more favorable. In short, the early 1960s
saw a perfect coincidence of an individual institution's ambitions and a
national need.
Giving substance to this need was the sudden plethora of grants and
loans that were becoming available to higher education institutions for
the development of programs and facilities related to these fields. With
the encouragement of the administration, chairmen and faculty of the
science departments were urged to prepare proposals, or simply submit
Expansion of Original Colleges and Lincoln Institute 171
ideas, which would add to the status and dimension of their programs and
make them eligible for federal funding. As a result, science programs at
Northeastern flourished as never before. Direct results of this federal
generosity included the expansion of research programs ( see Chapter X )
and, as a corollary, the expansion of graduate work, particularly at the
doctoral level (see Chapter IX). The indirect results were the acquisition
of new faculty capable of research and of teaching at both the advanced
and the undergraduate level and an upgrading of standards in all the science
programs. Between i960 and 1968 alone, for example, the number of the
faculty in the sciences (exclusive of mathematics and physics) rose from
fourteen to forty-three, and the percentage of faculty with terminal degrees
rose from less than 10 percent to over 50 percent.53
Federal funds also contributed substantially to the expansion of fa-
cilities to accommodate both the burgeoning activities and enrollments
of these science departments. The Mugar Life Sciences Building, the first
totally new construction under the Diamond Anniversary Development
Program, Mary Gass Robinson Hall, Hurtig Hall, and Dana Research Center,
all contained laboratories for liberal arts sciences use and were the direct
beneficiaries of this federal money. But if the predisposition of the College
of Liberal Arts to develop the sciences fitted neatly with the needs of the
nation, and if the University's commitment to fiscal responsibility was
assuaged by federal funding, the College's tradition of service to other
units within the University as well as training for a career was also a
contributing factor in the expansion.
The addition of the Colleges of Pharmacy (1962), Nursing (1964),
Boston-Bouve (1964), and Criminal Justice (1967), as well as affiliation
with Forsyth Dental ( 1962), and the establishment of programs for students
from Massachusetts General and New England Deaconess Schools of Nurs-
ing (i960), increased pressure for expanding the basic sciences and for
developing new career options. Thus, for example, a totally new depart-
ment, Natural Sciences (later changed to Earth Science) was introduced
in 1961; and a curriculum in Medical Technology on the Cooperative Plan
of Education was opened in 1960—61, under the Department of Biology.
The Development of the Social Sciences. While the correlation
between national priorities and the traditions of the College of Liberal
Arts found its most natural outlet in the growth of the basic sciences,
many of the same factors also contributed to the growth of the social
sciences. The growing demand for businessmen, health personnel, and
educators had given added impetus to the College of Liberal Arts to de-
velop curricula appropriate to these professional fields.
Psychology, sociology, and economics, the social sciences most di-
172 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
rectly related to these areas, showed the most immediate gain. Psychology
as a pure science — it was offered both as a physical science and social
science — had already benefited by the addition of government-funded
laboratory space. In fact some of its laboratory facilities developed almost
in spite of the University. In 1967, for example, there is an amusing incident
about just such a situation. The administration had approved a modest
stipend to support the addition of a few monkeys and mice for a growing
animal laboratory, only to discover in the course of the year that their
tenants required a full-fledged, air-conditioned, environmentally con-
trolled space at considerably more than anticipated cost. It is a sign of the
times, however, that the four-legged creatures were not evicted. Rather,
the cost was absorbed with no more than some ruffled fur — a solution
that could not have prevailed in a less expansive period.
At the same time, psychology as a purely social science also bur-
geoned, not only providing attractive electives for those enrolled in nurs-
ing, pharmacy, education, and criminal justice but also for students who
now majored in the subject. These students were confident that their
skills would equip them for high-demand careers in personnel work and
in counseling, to name only two new positions that opened as education,
industry, and business grew. As a result, the faculty of the department
more than tripled in ten years from four to fourteen persons, with a
doctoral program being established in 1966.54
Sociology proved to be still another field that offered programs of
particular appeal to students in the new colleges. In addition, increasing
student concern over the issue of man's relationship to society — a concern
sparked partially by the growing civil rights movement, the war, and crime
problems — manifested itself in expanded enrollments in that area, which
by its very nature promised to deal constructively with the roots of such
issues. By 1968 the faculty here had also catapulted from four to fourteen.
A doctoral program added in 1967 opened up new courses at every level,
and upper-class enrollment by sociology "majors" jumped from 84 in 1964
to 166 in 1967.55 Anthropology courses also expanded considerably — the
department became officially Sociology-Anthropology in 1965. And finally,
an honors society, Alpha Kappa Delta, was founded in 1964, thus giving
a new panache to the field at Northeastern.
It was also during this period that the Department of Economics,
previously under the College of Business Administration, switched its
allegiance to the College of Liberal Arts. Although the catalyst for this
change was a personality conflict between Economics' faculty and the
Expansion of Original Colleges and Lincoln Institute 173
new dean of Business, that the move could easily and agreeably be effected
reveals something of the change that had occurred not only in the College
of Liberal Arts but also in the University's perception of that unit.
Initially, economics had been included under Business because that
College provided the most reasonable outlet for economic skills. By 1965,
however, it had become apparent that economics not only had a wider
application but that Liberal Arts had arrived at that stage of its own maturity
where it could provide the environment to develop such a range.
The two other social science disciplines that flourished during the
early 1960s were history and government. In 1959 a combined curriculum
led to the bachelor's degree, and the combined full-time faculty of the two
disciplines numbered nine, with five teaching assistants. By 1961 the field
had been broken into two distinct departments, each with its own identity
and aims. Government was renamed Political Science, in deference to the
real substance of the program, with a B.A. being awarded in that field. In
1961 the Department qualified for the institution of the chapter of the
national political science honor society, Pi Sigma Alpha. By 1968 the faculty
of this single unit numbered nine, with eight teaching assistants and an
upper-class-majors enrollment of 174 students.56
Simultaneously, the Department of History also expanded. Under the
leadership of Dr. Raymond H. Robinson, who had been with the Depart-
ment since the mid-1950s, course offerings were augmented and faculty
increased to fourteen by 1968. An even more significant figure is the
growth of upper-class enrollments by majors that went from 90 in 1964 —
three years after the departments of History and Government were sep-
arated— to 149 in 1968.57 The Department of History also had a national
honor society, Phi Alpha Theta.
The Development of the Humanities. The one uncertain ele-
ment in the growth of the College of Liberal Arts during this period was
the humanities. In 1967 the visiting evaluation team of the New England
Association of Schools and Colleges "identified humanities as a weak aspect
of academic progress at Northeastern, focusing its concern on the state
of the English Department in particular and the emphasis placed on the
humanities in general."58
The situation was not surprising. If the clues to the expansion of the
sciences and social sciences lie in the roots of the College and the demands
of society, so also do the clues to the problems of the humanities. As
previously noted, these disciplines had from the beginning suffered a
certain ambivalence on the part of the Institution. It was relatively easy
174 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
to develop sciences and social sciences in such a way that they could
combine the principles of a general and professional education. It was
relatively simple to place students in science and social science related
fields during their cooperative experience and after graduation. And it
was relatively uncomplicated to design programs that could be both in-
dependent and yet serviceable to other units. It was relatively difficult,
however, to accomplish any of these aims for the humanities. One option,
of course, would have been to abandon the Cooperative Plan of Education
for such fields as English, philosophy, modern languages, and even history
(which although listed in the catalog as social science shares many of the
aims and assumptions generally associated with the humanities); this
would mean giving up the notion that there was any connection between
general education and the College's responsibility to provide career-ori-
ented programs. Such an option, however, if it had been contrary to the
thinking of Dr. Ell, was even more contrary to the thinking of Dr. Knowles.
Trained in a small liberal arts college and graduated during the Depres-
sion, Dr. Knowles was acutely aware of the disadvantages that a classical
liberal arts education could have in times of economic crunch. Further,
his earlier experiences — with students as a teacher at Northeastern in the
1930s, with veterans as President of the Associated Colleges of Upper New
York State in the 1940s, and with urban students as President of the Uni-
versity of Toledo in the 1950s — had made him sensitive to the immediate
needs of working class students. As a result, his sympathies were more
with the career- and service-oriented aspects of the College than with its
general education function.
The conjunction of the College's tradition, then, with the new Pres-
ident's own bias and, further, with his commitment to fiscal responsibility
(government grants were only minimally available for the support of the
humanities), created an environment, particularly in the early 1960s, that
was nowhere near as conducive to the growth of the humanities as it was
to the growth of the sciences and social sciences. Nevertheless, the hu-
manities did grow.
Between 1959 and 1968 the full-time humanities faculty trebled from
thirty to ninety-three members. Two new departments offering ma-
jors— the Department of Philosophy and the Department of Drama and
Speech — were formed in 1965. Music was separated into a nonmajor unit,
and Journalism became a department in its own right. The largest portion
of this growth, however, is more attributable to the general expansion of
the entire University and the need of students in sciences, social sciences,
and professional colleges for general education than to the attraction of
the humanistic disciplines in and for themselves. The mere fact that sev-
Expansion of Original Colleges and Lincoln Institute 175
enty-three of the full-time faculty members could be accounted for by
English and modern languages, both of which offered freshmen service
courses, and that the remaining twenty-one members were spread over
four other departments — Art, Drama/Speech, Music, and Philosophy —
supports this conclusion and gives substance to the New England Asso-
ciation's 1967 contention that Northeastern "did not emphasize the
humanities."59
In fact, the Association's criticism of the Department of English sug-
gests the degree of the problem. There is, it asserted, "too little genuine
choice in the field of humanistic electives, a tendency to treat the hu-
manities as congeries of the service department,' a general tendency to
over-large classes, a dependence on a single text book."60 If this judgment
is harsh, it is not necessarily unjust, and the next eight years were to see
a concerted effort to improve these areas as well as to enhance the ways
in which all of the liberal arts programs were taught, both as service
dimensions of professional education and as the primary focus of education
itself.
Between 1959 and 1967, Northeastern's College of Liberal Arts had made
substantial strides forward. A significant testimony of its achievement was
the granting of a charter in 1963 for the national honor society Phi Kappa
Phi. Nevertheless, it still had a ways to go, and between 1968 and 1975 the
College was to experience some of the most severe pressures in its history.
The response to these pressures, however, which came both from within
and without, finally was to bring the College to its full maturity. The period
began with the appointment of a new Dean, Dr. Robert Shepard, who
replaced the retiring Dr. Wilfred S. Lake. Dr. Shepard, who had received
his doctorate in organic chemistry from Yale University, had been with
Northeastern's Department of Chemistry since 1950, serving as its Chair-
man since 1958. He was highly esteemed by his colleagues, and the new
era opened on a note of optimism and affluence.
By 1968 the College of Liberal Arts had reached a record enrollment
of 3,671 students as opposed to 1,017 in 1959. By 1970 an enrollment of
4,068 students had broken this record, making Liberal Arts the largest
undergraduate day school in the University.61 Despite the above-mentioned
criticism of the humanities, this expansion had benefited all areas of the
College. Course offerings had almost automatically increased to accom-
modate increased enrollment, and faculty size and status had grown in
relation to needs and increased graduate and research opportunities.
Standards had risen as the enlarged pool of applications made greater
selectivity possible. And, finally, the continued generosity of the govern-
176 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
ment as well as private business and industry had allowed for new
facilities.
Under Dr. Shepard these trends continued between 1968 and 1970.
In the sciences, chemistry flourished with the addition of new chemistry
laboratory space made possible by the opening of the Edward L. Hurtig
Building in 1968, while marine science studies achieved new dimensions
with the addition of the Edwards Marine Science Institute in Nahant (see
Chapter XX). In the social sciences, upper-class enrollment by major fields
of study in psychology, sociology, and political science, for example,
reached 385, 402, and 418, respectively, by 1970.62 The increased status
of the entire area was further underscored by the institution of a Center
for Applied Social Research, founded to coordinate social science research,
to provide project direction and coordination, and to increase external
funding for research.
In the humanities, efforts to counter the criticism of the Association,
combined with expansion, were most clearly manifest in the growing
number of new course offerings. Within two years English had added nine
courses, exclusive of freshman English. But probably the most dramatic
of these additions occurred in the Modern Language Department, which
in 1969—70 provided not only the staples — French, German, and Spanish —
but Russian, Italian, Japanese, and Swahili as well. Although these latter
two proved short-lived, being phased out in 1970—71, they did, neverthe-
less, represent a willingness of the departments to be innovative and to
accommodate themselves to the demands of a burgeoning student body.
While expansion continued to be a major factor in shaping the char-
acter of the College during the last years of the decade, a new element
was also beginning to surface — an element that was to have far-reaching
effects on the shape of liberal arts at Northeastern.
The first rumbles of this new influence had begun to be felt as early
as 1964. The passage of the Civil Rights Act, the escalation of the war in
Southeast Asia, and the growth of crime in the streets at home had already
begun to shift the national attention away from science as the panacea for
all ills to the social sciences as more relevant — at least to some problems.
This shift had been manifest at the University in the institution of its first
law and justice courses in the early 1960s, in the growing strength of the
social sciences in the mid-1960s, and, most important, in the development
of a new constituency in the late 1960s.
This new constituency, which was characterized by its concern for
the social and political implications of what was being studied as much
as by the career potential of the work, was, of course, not a Northeastern
phenomenon. In fact, as a predominantly professional institution, North-
Expansion of Original Colleges and Lincoln Institute 177
eastern was probably far less affected than most other major universities
by this group. However, it did exert an important influence, particularly
on the liberal arts. This is not surprising, as it is the faith of these disciplines
that "the unexamined life is not worth living," and it is the mode of these
disciplines to question and to explore.
At Northeastern this new constituency was to be responsible for much
of the move toward participatory democracy that came to characterize
the College's decision-making processes in the late 1960s and early 1970s.
It was also responsible for making course content "more relevant" and
for shifting a number of majors away from the basic sciences and into
social sciences.
During the first thirty years of its existence, the College of Liberal
Arts had been under the deanship of Dr. Wilfred S. Lake. Dr. Lake was a
member of the old school, who associated the position of the dean with
final responsibility for all curricula and with the implementation of struc-
tures that experience had taught him would be best for the College and
for students as a whole. Perhaps the best example to express the degree
of centralized authority that existed during his administration is an image
painted by one faculty member: "There he was, late into the night, ex-
hausted, but committed to making out each individual student's schedule
in conformity with what he thought would be best for each particular
student."
Whether such a tale is apocryphal or not, it was not an image for the
1960s. According to the new constituency, such an approach was far too
authoritarian and contrary both to democratic principles and the right of
students to take responsibility for their own lives. (Paradoxically, when
later in the decade others lower in the hierarchy assumed these duties,
there was little protest.) That no confrontation, however, occurred be-
tween the old and the new was partially due to the patient and gentlemanly
character of Dr. Lake, who allowed for the planning of new structures
under his administration, and partially due to the coincidence of his re-
tirement in 1967 with the cresting of a passion for change.
Under the new Dean, Dr. Robert Shepard, reorganizational plans were
implemented. A college curriculum committee was set up, and a student
advisory board was instituted. Both moves gave fresh input into the aca-
demic decision-making process. As a result, a system of preregistration
was established to give the student more opportunities for choice, de-
partmental guidelines for a major were relaxed, and the pass-fail option,
approved for the entire University, was instituted as part of Liberal Arts.
The effect of the new constituency on course relevancy was equally
profound. It was during this period that the first black studies' courses
178 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
were introduced into the curricula, including Afro-American History, the
Black Artist in Music, and Afro-American Literature. The new interest in
urban affairs showed itself particularly in a raft of new offerings in the
Economics Department — Urban Economic Problems and Policies, Poverty
and Discrimination, Manpower and Anti-Poverty Policy Programs. In-
creased concern for social change and interest in the genesis of social
relationships prompted the introduction of courses in the Political Science
Department (Politics of Revolution and Change), in the Sociology De-
partment (The Family in Evolutionary Perspective), and in the Economics
Department (Social Control of Economic Actions).
Perhaps the most dramatic example of the students' concern with
relevancy and their willingness to take responsibility for their own studies
was manifest in 1970 in the establishment of a course analyzing American
racism. Taught by members of a white student group — the University
Committee Against Racism — it had as its aim simply to sensitize the white
student to the implications of their attitudes. Meeting four times a week
for a quarter, taught by students, and maintained at a level that made it
eligible for credit, this singular course was a testament to the commitment
of the Northeastern students who designed the course, the good faith of
the faculty who voted to approve it, and the wisdom of the administrators
in the College of Liberal Arts who encouraged the students in their
pursuits.
In addition to the effect of continued expansion and changing social
and political mores, a third major influence on the shape of the College
during this period was the sudden sharp attrition in enrollment and fund-
ing. This reduction followed in the wake of a general economic slowdown,
across-the-board cuts to education from the federal coffers, and a change
in the draft laws.
In 1970 the total enrollment in the College of Liberal Arts was 4,067;
by 1975 it was approximately 2,6oo.63 While there can be no minimizing
the traumatic effect such an attrition had, it was not without some re-
deeming features. For a decade the major issue confronting the College
had been simply to keep pace with accelerating demands. Now, almost
overnight, these demands had changed. If, on the one hand, this meant a
tightening of the belt — and there is no question that it did — it also meant
that for the first time in ten years the College had the chance to sit back
and reassess its priorities.
Significantly, it was during this period of "contemplation" that many
of the original goals — almost lost in the frantic atmosphere of the 1960s —
were to be reaffirmed. Among these goals was a recommitment to the
needs of working class students and to the career dimensions of general
Expansion of Original Colleges and Lincoln Institute 179
education. Paradoxically, it was also during this period that the College
was able to achieve — particularly in the humanities — a new level of ex-
cellence simply by the process of winnowing and refining activities that
had proved elusive during the more expansive days of the 1960s. For
example, it was between 1970 and 1975 that the College began to develop
several programs — remedial mathematics and English, English for inter-
national students and writing workshops — that were designed to help that
"first generation college student" who had made up its original constituency.
It was also between 1970 and 1975 that the College, faced with a
nationwide decline in employment but committed by tradition to helping
its students find a role in the marketplace, began to explore new and
innovative ways to find cooperative placement opportunities in all dis-
ciplines. The College also began to design programs that would assure
even greater access to jobs after graduation. Thus, although there was a
sharp decline in the need for engineers, industrial scientists, and college
teachers and a corollary decline in departments feeding those fields, there
was a rise in other areas. Between 1970 and 1973, for example, English
upper-class enrollments dropped from 316 to 130, although Journalism
upper-class enrollments rose from 147 in 1970 to 208 in 1973. During the
same period, Chemistry dropped from 100 to 71, Mathematics from 247 to
173, and Physics from 79 to 55. Significantly it was 1970-71 that the two
latter departments also changed allegiance from the College of Engineering
to Liberal Arts, a change that definitively recognized at last that these two
fields had a pure science function apart from their applied science engi-
neering role, and that the College of Liberal Arts had an identity conducive
to their best development. During this period, the upper-class enrollment
in modern languages, as a major field of study, also dropped from a high
of 93 in 1970 to 61 in 1973.64 An even greater attrition was felt in freshman
elementary courses. While at the upper level this change can be largely
attributed to the shrunken market for teaching jobs, at the lower levels
the reduction came about largely in response to the earlier clamor for
"relevance," which, coupled with the job anxieties of the 1970s, brought
about a reinstitution of the Bachelor of Science degree. This degree, by
nature more specialized and semiprofessional, generally had no foreign
language requirement, except in the biology and chemistry programs,
where foreign language competence was considered an important tool of
the science. By 1972 it had become an option in almost all departments.
But while the decline in the aforementioned areas was severe, it was
to some extent offset by a growing interest in the health, ecology, and
human services fields. Chemistry somewhat stemmed the tide of its at-
trition by the introduction of four biochemistry courses appropriate for
l8o ACADEMIC EXPANSION
students interested in some branch of the medical profession. Geology
(Earth Science), with its focus on earth resources, became a major in its
own right, enrolling forty students in 1973. Biology experienced a sudden
leap forward, going from 360 upper-class enrollment in that major field of
study in 1970 to 416 in 1973.65
One of the most important "professional" innovations during this
period was the introduction of an interdisciplinary, intercollegiate Human
Services program in 1974. As mentioned in the previous section on the
College of Education, this preprofessional program was designed for those
interested in careers in human services. It gave students a broad, com-
prehensive view of society and the variety of ways in which individuals
could contribute to meeting those needs. Prerequisite courses in psy-
chology and sociology and core courses in the same areas helped offset
upper-class enrollment decline of "majors" in these programs, while
students in these areas were directed into new professional fields. Co-
operative placement included hospitals, prisons, and public and private
social work institutions.
Finally, confronted with the need to attract as well as to accommodate
students, the 1970s were to be earmarked by innovation in several areas
and paradoxically by improvement in these areas. The sudden glut of
Ph.D.s on the market, particularly in the humanities, allowed for greater
selectivity of faculty. The departments were able to make significant im-
provements in levels of teaching and research. Thus, for example, between
1967, the time of the New England Association of Schools and Colleges
report criticizing the Department of English, and 1977-78, the time of the
next report, the percentage of doctorates on that department faculty alone
increased from 30 to 73 percent, a sizable increase.66 The English De-
partment also benefited from the drop in enrollment in that courses such
as Freshman English, which had been overcrowded by virtue of circum-
stances, were now able to stabilize at a much more manageable class size.
In addition, course offerings frequently became more imaginative and
diverse, as departments vied with each other for the general student.
Philosophy, for example, added a course in Vonnegut as Philosopher,
another in Myth and Dreams as Religious Experience, and still another in
Mysticism, East and West. English offered half again as many courses as
were available in 1967, including Science Fiction, Images of Women in
Literature, Literature of the Absurd, and African Literature.
The drop in the frantic pace of the 1960s also allowed more time for
the development of those amenities that were to give added prestige to
Expansion of Original Colleges and Lincoln Institute 181
the College as a whole. In 1972 a Studies in American Fiction journal was
instituted at Northeastern, and in 1974 an art gallery was opened in the
Student Center.
It was also during this period that the College consolidated many of
the unaccredited programs previously offered by the Afro-American In-
stitute with programs provided in other departments to form a totally new
interdisciplinary department of Afro-American Studies in 1973 (later
changed to African American Studies). Although in comparison with other
major universities Northeastern was late in introducing such a department,
its courses had the advantage of having already been tested, and many of
the fad offerings that had characterized similar programs elsewhere were
thereby avoided. The thrust of this new area of concentration, which led
to the B.A., was not only to examine the cultural heritage and social
problems pertinent to Americans of African descent but also to help pre-
pare these students for rewarding careers by supplementing their tradi-
tional courses with those designed specifically for career development.
To this extent, the program was very much within the tradition of North-
eastern and of the older black colleges, many of which had looked with
a bit of circumspection at programs in other universities that in their haste
to climb on the Black Studies bandwagon had overlooked the career needs
of their constituency.
Still another example of innovation was the introduction of the in-
terdisciplinary Independent Major in 1973. This program was tailored to
accommodate those students who wished to explore a variety of courses
and who were seeking a career in areas that had no established under-
graduate preprofessional programs. As such, it proved highly successful,
attracting over a dozen students in the first year alone even though the
principal burden for developing such an independent major was the in-
dividual student's responsibility.
By 1975 the College of Liberal Arts was providing twenty different majors,
a 300 percent increase over 1959. Full-time faculty had expanded from 60
to approximately 225, over 70 percent of whom held the doctorate degree.
These numbers, however, were even less significant than the changes that
had occurred in the quality of the education itself.67
In the early part of the decade the sciences and social sciences,
capitalizing on the national situation, had expanded to accommodate stu-
dents in professional fields other than engineering. As a consequence, they
had developed a stature and reputation in their own right. In the late 1960s
182 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
and early 1970s, under the direction of Dr. Shepard, himself a humanist-
chemist, concerted efforts to keep the humanities apace of these other
disciplines resulted in the founding of new degree-granting departments
and the general overall improvement of the humanities.
Without ever relinquishing its commitment to general education, the
College had also remained staunchly committed to the goals of service
and professional education. Cooperative education had provided one way
to bridge the gap, and the imaginative pursuit of new areas of study had
provided still another. In a university singularly market-oriented, the Col-
lege of Liberal Arts had clearly demonstrated by 1975 it could hold its own
without compromise. In fact, the statement of its aims as expressed in the
College catalog that year might well be taken — with the substitution of
the word "college" for "person" — as the paradigm of its own history: "The
mature person [college] is aware of significant phenomena of the world
and has the ability to cope with them effectively and creatively."68
Dr. Knowles's philosophy of higher education was pragmatic. His admin-
istration encouraged the four basic Colleges and Lincoln to develop their
offerings in keeping with the demands of the marketplace. During this
period those demands were for quality education at all levels. Accredi-
tation by recognized agencies and affiliation with national honor societies
and professional organizations were hallmarks of such quality, and, con-
sequently, the administration pushed the Colleges to achieve these marks
of distinction.
The decade of the 1960s was a burgeoning market, and Dr. Knowles
fostered programs and structures that would allow the University to ex-
pand. The Colleges became considerably more independent with greater
control over their faculties, programs, and organization. In the late 1960s
and early 1970s, the same pragmatism allowed the administration to ac-
quiesce to student demands for a greater say in their own education. At
the same time, however, the administration retained firm control over any
actions that were important to the effectiveness of the University as a
whole. Thus in the early 1960s it gave priority to those high demand
programs such as science and related professions that brought a high
return both in terms of student interest and federal sponsorship. In the
latter part of the decade, and for the same reasons, it accorded similar
emphasis to social sciences, health, and law and justice. Throughout, Dr.
Knowles encouraged the Cooperative Plan of Education and the design
of programs leading to marketable skills; hence students were enabled to
afford their present and plan for their economic future.
As a consequence of all these moves, Northeastern at the end of the
Expansion of Original Colleges and Lincoln Institute 183
period was considerably larger than it had been in 1959 but still financially
stable. It had, in fact, survived "the best of times and the worst of times"
and emerged in 1975 as a major purveyor of private education in this
country.
The two previous chapters have examined the development of
undergraduate education at Northeastern during the 1960s and early
1970s, treating it as the response to expanding enrollments, available
monies, increasing interest in particular professional fields, and, most of
all, as a quest for full accreditation in all areas. Yet to a large extent,
much of this response would not have been possible had it not been
accompanied by a parallel growth in graduate education. Indeed, as has
been indicated in earlier chapters, much of the development of
Northeastern's faculty and of its programs at the undergraduate level
was the direct result of expansion at the graduate level during the same
period.
For the first sixty years of its history, Northeastern had been primarily
an undergraduate teaching institution. It saw as its major purpose the
preparation of working-class students to assume meaningful positions in
the middle-level ranks of the professional market. Although as early as
1940 graduate-level programs leading to the master's degree had been
introduced in the form of teaching fellowships in the departments of
184
Graduate Education 185
Chemistry and Physics, they were instituted as much to satisfy the need
for junior faculty in times of economic depression as to promote an active
graduate curriculum. During World War II, a drop in enrollments caused
the fellowships to be temporarily suspended, but directly after the war
they were reinstated and expanded with a Master of Science degree added
in Biology in 1947. The reason for these later programs, however, was still
conditioned as much by undergraduate as graduate considerations —
teaching fellows provided a staff to serve a vastly swollen basic college
enrollment.
In the postwar years another factor that would also influence the
development of Northeastern's graduate programs began to emerge. This
was the growing need in business and industry for persons with highly
specialized skills. In the fall of 1948, then, in response to external demand,
the Evening Division of the College of Engineering began to offer six
master's, albeit nondegree, courses to its part-time students. Two years
later the same unit, and for the same reason, instituted three more pro-
grams but now leading to the Master of Science degree. These programs
were in Civil Engineering (Structures major) and in Electrical and Me-
chanical Engineering. Thus, by 1950 the University had begun to accept,
although somewhat tentatively, the notion that graduate study might be
necessary not only to fulfill its own internal needs but also to fulfill its
commitment to the community at large.
Between 1951 and 1959 graduate education at Northeastern expanded
steadily. In these eight years the following degrees were added: a Master
of Business Administration in the School of Business Administration in
1951; a Master of Science in Civil Engineering (Sanitary major) in 1952;
and a Master of Science in Mathematics-Physics in 1952 (dropped in 1959).
In 1953, concurrent with the founding of the College of Education, a
Master of Education was instituted. Between 1956 and 1958 four more
Master of Science programs, one in the evening and three in the day on
the Cooperative Plan of Education, were also added in Engineering. And
in 1959 the Master of Arts became available in English, History, Political
Science, and Psychology. Underscoring this development was the estab-
lishment of a Graduate School in 1958 with Dr. Arthur A. Vernon, previ-
ously Chairman of the Chemistry Department, appointed Dean. That same
year construction began on a building to house graduate offices. By 1959
when the new Center was completed, graduate enrollment had swelled
from the mere handful of students served in 1940 to almost 3,000, mostly
part-time, students.1
Yet in spite of the depth of commitment these facts would seem to
indicate, they are in a way misleading. As an undergraduate teaching in-
l86 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
stitution, Northeastern had initially looked on graduate education — tra-
ditionally associated with training university professors and scholars — as
tangential to its main purpose. The war had altered this perception: ad-
vanced work had become almost a necessity to satisfy what Nathan Pusey,
in his study American Higher Education iQ45—igjo, has called "the seem-
ingly insatiable needs of the new industrial, technological, managerial
society, which had grown enormously during the war years, for more and
more specialists of many kinds." Yet although Northeastern's postwar pro-
grams indicated that it responded to this perception, it is significant that
the greatest concentration of its graduate students were in the Evening
Divisions of Engineering and Business, that the highest degree offered was
the master's, and that course content appeared to be dictated as much by
the immediate needs of business and industry as by a coherent graduate
education policy. Dr. Philip Crotty, commenting on the M.B.A. program
in the early 1950s, describes the situation: "The faculty was largely part-
time; admission standards were so general as to be almost undefined; there
was heavy reliance on the business community's preferences in deter-
mining course content which led to an extremely practical orientation."2
Although Dr. Crotty's remarks were addressed specifically to the busi-
ness curriculum, his perceptions might be seen as applicable across the
board. In 1959 the questions of what priority graduate education should
assume and what relationship it could and should have to undergraduate
education were still largely unresolved. One of the major challenges con-
fronting the new administration would be their resolution.
By 1959 the University had arrived at a crucial point in the devel-
opment of its graduate programs. A letter from Dr. White to the Division
of Higher Education, Department of Health, Education and Welfare on
December 16, 1958, indicates that even before the new administration
took office the University was considering dramatic changes: "The Uni-
versity has been contemplating the development of doctoral programs in
certain areas where it has appropriate staff and facilities."3
Contributing to the sense that change was in order were events on
the national scene. Between 1950 and i960 graduate enrollment in higher
education institutions in the United States had jumped from 237,308 to
341,820, and further expansion was imminent. (By 1970 the number would
reach 900,032. )4 As mentioned earlier, the 1957 launching of Sputnik had
triggered fresh demands for more highly trained specialists, particularly
in engineering and high technology fields — the pressure to keep pace
Graduate Education 187
academically was increasing daily. It was a pressure that was further rein-
forced by economic incentives. In 1958 the federal legislature passed the
National Defense Act, which under Title II made available for the first
time large sums of money for education of graduate students in high
demand areas. At the same time government agencies (for example, the
National Science Foundation, the Atomic Energy Commission, and the
National Aeronautics and Space Agency) and private foundations, under
provisions of their own bylaws, were beginning to accord substantial funds
for the support of graduate programs and for the construction of facilities
that would house these programs. In addition, and of particular interest
to Northeastern, was the continuing expansion of the Boston circumfer-
ential highway Route 128 area. By i960 this area could boast one of the
nation's highest concentrations of engineering and technology firms. These
firms, of course, had a constant need for trained personnel and looked to
the local institutions to satisfy their demands. Nevertheless, although Dr.
Knowles was acutely aware of all these conditions, he was also aware that
they could not and should not be the only factors determining North-
eastern's internal policies.
During his period of orientation, the President-Elect had carefully
sounded out the attitudes of the faculty and Trustees on graduate work.
He had discovered that it was the concensus of the faculty, especially
those in the physical and social sciences, that the University must take
decisive steps if it were to keep pace with the increasing needs for spe-
cialists and with its peers in high education. On the other hand, he had
also discovered that it was the concensus of members of the Board of
Trustees and the Corporation, many of whom dated their membership
back to the 1930s when Northeastern had been exclusively an under-
graduate Institution, that the University should exercise caution before
plunging into areas that might deflect funds and interests from the Insti-
tution's undergraduate teaching role. It was Dr. Knowles's feeling, then,
that whatever policy was finally arrived at must, in the best interests of
the University, reflect both these attitudes, and he did not move precip-
itously. Neither his inaugural address nor his first address to the Corpo-
ration in 1959 suggests any prior judgment of what he thought Northeastern
should do. What he did do, however, was set in motion certain structures
to examine the problem.
As early as January 6, 1959, departmental committees had been ap-
pointed to study the present and potential ability of Northeastern Uni-
versity to undertake programs leading to the doctoral degree in the fields
of chemistry, electrical engineering, economics, education, physics, and
psychology. The reason for the choice of these fields is not difficult to
l88 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
fathom. They were traditionally among Northeastern's strongest depart-
ments. They were areas with master's programs, and, perhaps most sig-
nificantly, they were areas that had been involved in outside contracts —
an important consideration for an institution contemplating doctoral pro-
grams. (See Chapter X.) When Dr. Knowles took office in July 1959, he
continued these committees and enjoined members to give particular
consideration to the effect such programs would have on undergraduate
studies, to their need in the community, and to the costs that would be
involved. He also appointed an overall Advisory Committee on Graduate
School Policy to determine "broad policies governing the conduct of
graduate work."5 Even before the findings of these groups could be pre-
sented to the Board of Trustees, however, other steps were taken.
By the spring of i960, it had been determined that the departments
most prepared to launch Northeastern into advanced graduate studies
were Physics, Electrical Engineering, and Chemistry. Dr. Knowles thus
authorized these departments to hire top-level, research-oriented faculty
who might help in the development of such programs. At the same time
he sent letters to outside experts in these areas inviting them to come to
Northeastern for the day to study the recommendations of the departments
and to express opinions on their sources. A letter from Dr. Knowles to
Professor Lockhart B. Rogers, Department of Chemistry, Massachusetts
Institute of Technology, is paradigmatic of what was requested: "Before
presenting the recommendations of the department to our Trustees for
their consideration, I would like to have unbiased opinions from three
distinguished teachers of chemistry from outside the University as to the
adequacy of the projected doctoral program."6 Although unusual, this
process was to be followed almost without exception in the establishment
of all of Northeastern's high-level graduate programs.
Only when all of this information was gathered did the administration
finally make clear its policy on the expansion of graduate education. The
policy was expressed in a "Proposal to the Board of Trustees for Authoriza-
tion of Doctoral Programs in Chemistry, Electrical Engineering, and Phys-
ics." Prepared by the Office of the Provost, November 1, i960, the proposal
was presented to the Board on December 1, i960. Although the proposal
referred to specific programs at the doctoral level, it was to prove relevant
to all graduate work. In brief, what it showed was that the new adminis-
tration would support graduate education to the extent that it fulfilled the
following criteria:
1. Answered a demonstrable need in the community.
Both the federal government through the National Defense Edu-
cation Act of 1958 and leading national educational organizations are
Graduate Education 189
urging institutions, which have the necessary resources, to extend
their present doctoral programs and to establish new ones. There is
a real urgency about increasing the opportunities in this area of
education.
2. Enhanced undergraduate education.
In order further to enhance the quality of its undergraduate instruc-
tion, the University must continue to attract additional truly distin-
guished faculty members. They cannot be recruited unless the overall
program of the University includes doctoral work. It is vitally impor-
tant that the University update and modernize its undergraduate cur-
ricula in science and engineering. The interaction between graduate
work and undergraduate programs is helpful in accomplishing this.
3, Was fiscally justifiable.
Doctoral programs will not pay their own way as do most of the
undergraduate curricula offered by Northeastern University. The ad-
ditional expense involved, however, will be more than offset by the
increase in prestige, in ability to attract the ablest faculty members,
and in capacity to carry on significant basic research.
The argument went on to state: "In view of high level additions to
the staff during the past two years, we already have the necessary faculty
and their salaries will have to be paid whether we offer doctoral work or
not."7
There is something delightfully circular about this last statement —
these faculty had been recruited on the grounds that Northeastern would
provide graduate programs, and now their presence was being used to
justify that provision. Nevertheless, and more important, the argument
sounded a cautionary note of practicality that would characterize all pro-
posals for graduate programs in the next decade and a half — that is, lofty
motives were well and good, but they must expect to be tempered by
down-to-earth considerations.
That the Board of Trustees was satisfied with Dr. Knowles's approach
was evidenced by their unanimous vote of approval for doctoral programs
to be begun in chemistry, physics, and electrical engineering. Thus, on
December 1, i960, Northeastern launched a new era — an era of explicit
commitment to graduate as well as undergraduate education.
3
In the course of the next fifteen years, Northeastern was to introduce
fourteen new programs on the doctoral level, a variety of programs in-
termediate between the doctoral and master's level, and a host of new
master of arts and master of science programs. In addition, three graduate-
190 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
level professional schools were added, and total graduate enrollment went
from approximately 3,000 in 1959 to 6,000 in 1975.8 More significant than
mere numbers, however, was the across-the-board enhancement of all
graduate education at every level.
In 1959 four graduate schools existed: the Graduate Schools of Arts
and Sciences, Engineering, Business Administration, and Education. Al-
though the organization of the Graduate School in 1958 served to admin-
istratively coordinate these programs, it was not until after i960, when
the new administration's policy became clear, that any concerted effort
was made to effect substantive changes in program content itself. Where
previous programs had existed, they were upgraded; where new ones
were initiated, they were subject to the same rigorous qualification stan-
dards that pertained to the development of the first doctoral programs.
A brief glance at the development of these four schools over the next
several years substantiates this claim.
Graduate School of Arts and Sciences
When the third administration decided to give its full support to
graduate education according to the criteria presented to the Board of
Trustees in December i960, one of the first beneficiaries of the new policy
was the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences. The genesis of this School's
program lay, of course, in Northeastern's College of Liberal Arts, which
because of its own peculiar history (see Chapter VIII) tended to be par-
ticularly strong in the sciences. The University, then, capitalizing on this
strength, which perfectly corresponded with the nation's needs, initially
encouraged the science dimension of the Graduate School of Arts and
Sciences. Thus in 1961 the School was authorized to grant the doctoral
degree in Chemistry and Physics. In 1962 a master's program in Mathe-
matics was initiated, in 1964 a Master of Science in Health Science under
the Department of Biology was introduced, and in 1965 a doctorate in
Mathematics became available. Finally, in 1967 the Department of Biology,
prompted by the expansion of its marine science program (see Chapter
XX), added the School's fourth doctoral program in a science field, the
Doctor of Philosophy in Biology.
Paradoxically, of course, only the programs in Chemistry and Biology
were actually developed by Arts and Sciences; graduate programs in Math-
ematics and Physics, like their undergraduate counterparts, were still ad-
ministered by the College of Engineering, although because degrees were
granted by Arts and Sciences, they were considered technically part of
that unit (see Chapter VIII). In any case, in the early years of the decade,
science and technology unquestionably occupied the forefront of national
Graduate Education 191
attention and the forefront of the University's interest in graduate work,
and during these years science unquestionably dominated the Graduate
School of Arts and Sciences. During the same time, however, other inter-
ests, although not as immediately influential, were also coming into play
and would finally exert a very strong effect on the overall shape of the
School.
Since World War II the United States had experienced a period of
increasing affluence, urbanization, and growth in business, technology,
and industry. By the late 1950s and early 1960s these economic and social
changes were giving rise to new questions of social and economic import.
On the national front the growing civil rights movement and the spate of
early 1960s legislation, such as Medicaid, Medicare, the Economic Op-
portunity Act, even the vision of the Great Society itself, can be seen as
manifestations of a new awareness. At Northeastern the effect of this
awareness was to create a context favorable to the development of certain
social science programs, such as sociology, psychology, and economics,
all of which might be expected to train persons for responsible roles in
changing economic and social structures. These areas, then, became the
second focus of the Graduate School's expansion.
Again, the University's own particular history favored the develop-
ment of these disciplines. As a service unit to the College of Business
Administration, the College of Liberal Arts had developed relatively strong
departments in sociology, psychology, and economics, all of which were
seen as pertinent to business majors. (As noted in Chapter VIII, the De-
partment of Economics bore the same relationship to the College of Busi-
ness Administration that Physics and Mathematics bore to the College of
Engineering — faculty and budget were administratively related to one
college, degrees were offered through another. ) The fact of this strength,
coupled with the increasing availability of funds, particularly through re-
search grants and contracts (see Chapter X) and a growing national need
for the skills of the sociologist, psychologist, and economist, prompted
the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences to establish new graduate pro-
grams in these areas.
Thus in 1963 the Department of Sociology made available a Master
of Arts program in Sociology -Anthropology. In 1967 a Doctor of Philosophy
in Sociology was approved, and in 1969 a second Master of Arts in Sociology
was added. In 1965 the Department of Economics, still under administra-
tive control of the College of Business Administration, began to offer a
Master of Arts in that area (with concentrations offered in manpower and
urban planning). The following year the undergraduate programs moved
into the College of Liberal Arts, and the graduate programs came under
192 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences. In 1968 a Master of Public
Administration — an area of particular interest in an urban-based society —
was added. Finally, in 1973 a Doctor of Philosophy in Economics was
initiated. In the meantime, the Department of Psychology, which had
offered the Master of Arts since 1959, expanded to include a doctoral
program, enrolling its first students at this level in the fall of 1966. It was
also during this period that the science departments of Biology and Chem-
istry, in deference to a growing national interest in the health sciences,
which were also social science concerns added master's-level programs
in these areas. In 1964 the Department of Biology had introduced the
Master of Science in Health Science, and in 1973 the Department of Chem-
istry added a Master of Science in Clinical Chemistry.
By 1975, then, Northeastern's Graduate School of Arts and Sciences
had developed substantial programs in both the physical sciences and
certain areas of the social sciences. These were the programs that most
clearly fulfilled the criteria, established in i960, that graduate work must
satisfy a national need and be fiscally justifiable. To say that these programs
dominated the School is not to say that other areas of the social sciences —
for example, history and political science — and of the humanities were
totally ignored; it is to recognize, however, that these latter areas did not
receive anywhere near the high priority accorded to some of the other
disciplines. Nor are the reasons obscure.
One of the major problems facing the undergraduate College of Lib-
eral Arts, from which the graduate programs had grown, had been to effect
a synthesis between the very professional aims of the University and the
general education aims of Liberal Arts disciplines. While this synthesis was
achieved with a fair amount of ease in terms of the basic sciences and
certain of the social sciences, it was more difficult to resolve for history,
political science, and the humanities. At the undergraduate level, the prob-
lem had not proved insurmountable. Although cooperative jobs might not
reflect specific majors in music, art, literature, or history, many professions
actually preferred the broadly educated person. It was felt that these
students, having learned to think and reflect, could be trained to specific
skills on the job. Graduate education, however, implied specialization. In
brief, few organizations required an in-house historian, political scientist,
or expert in Milton. In general, such experts must either find their home
in universities as teachers or become professional musicians, artists, or
government consultants.
Thus the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences faced a dilemma.
Graduate Education 193
Should it, indeed could it afford to, develop doctoral-level programs in
areas that provided limited opportunities and/or suggested the need for
highly specialized training at institutions long steeped in the tradition of
such training? Northeastern's roots had given it advantages in business and
engineering and, as a corollary, advantages in sciences and certain social
sciences, but it had no such advantages in art, history, music, or English.
Undoubtedly, some of the faculty in these areas, confronted by the
dizzying upward spiral of graduate and research opportunities that their
peers were enjoying, felt that funds should be diverted their way. However,
most recognized, if somewhat reluctantly, that doctoral programs would
require a very large investment in terms of library resources as well as
new faculty and that such investment in the humanities was not practical
for Northeastern, at least at this time. The graduate policy expressed to
the Board of Trustees in i960, as well as the tradition of the Institution,
which implicitly, if not explicitly, had pledged itself to prepare students
to be truly competitive in the marketplace, underscored this recognition.
The practical truth was that the world of the late 1960s and early 1970s
did not place a high premium on the humanities or even history and
political science and would not support them. That one Northeastern
corporation member, Julius Santis, was willing to give the University a
substantial gift toward an arts center if matching funds from either the
government or private foundations could be found — they could not —
makes its own point. One might not like this situation or even approve
it, but from its inception Northeastern had been nothing if not openly
pragmatic.
Thus it was that, even in the expansive years of the 1960s, the Graduate
School of Arts and Sciences did not give its own top priority to developing
new graduate-degree programs, particularly doctoral-degree programs, in
areas that society itself did not accord top priority. What it did do, however,
was to encourage the expansion of those graduate programs that were
already offering the master's degree. Thus in the period between 1959 and
1975 the graduate curricula of History, Political Science, and English, all
of which had provided the Master of Arts since 1959, grew exponentially.
Even more significant was the increase in faculty with terminal degrees
in these areas. In English the full-time faculty grew from thirty members
in 1966—67, 30 percent of whom held the doctorate, to thirty-seven in
!977— 78, 73 percent of whom held the doctorate. During the same time
span, full-time political science faculty went from nine to fifteen, while
in History the total number increased by only one, from twelve to thirteen
194 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
members, but the proportion with doctorates went from 50 to 92 percent.9
(Although the 1975 figures might be more appropriate here, in deference
to accuracy and because the important point here is trends rather than
numbers, the 1978 figures that are included in Northeastern's ten-year self-
study report have been given.)
Altogether, then, the years between 1959 and 1975 were ones of con-
siderable growth for the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences. Total en-
rollment went from 504 to i,i4o;10 master's degree programs increased
from six to thirteen, and doctoral programs grew from zero to seven.
While most of this growth occurred in the science and social science
areas, an across-the-board enhancement of faculty and of programs paved
the way for development in still other areas in the next decade.
The Graduate School of Engineering
The development of the Graduate School of Engineering between
1959 and 1975 closely paralleled that of the Graduate School of Arts and
Sciences. Certainly the grounds for expansion — national need for highly
trained scientists and technologists and the availability of funds to support
that need — were equally pertinent to both schools. Nevertheless, the basic
problem confronting the Graduate School of Engineering was somewhat
different from that confronting the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences.
For the latter the major issue was one of choosing priorities — the sciences
over the arts — for Engineering the major issue was reorienting curricula
to meet new demands.
As stated earlier in this chapter, the initial impetus to develop graduate
work in Engineering had been the external demand of postwar business
and industry for more specialists. In the mid- 1940s the engineering soci-
eties of New England had articulated this need, and in 1948 the College
of Engineering, Evening Division, had responded by establishing its six
nondegree, graduate-level programs. Two years later, prompted by the
success of these offerings, the Division had instituted three other, but now
degree-granting, programs: the Master of Science in Civil Engineering, the
Master of Science in Electrical Engineering, and the Master of Science in
Mechanical Engineering. During the 1950s the Evening Division added a
fourth and fifth Master of Science program: Civil Engineering (Sanitary
major) in 1952 and Engineering Management in 1957. In the meantime,
the Day Division had also introduced its first advanced course leading to
a Master of Science, Electrical Engineering in 1956, and in 1958 two other
similar programs were added, one in Civil, the other in Mechanical En-
gineering. Despite the fact that these day programs were conducted for
regular college students on the Cooperative Plan of Education, the major
Graduate Education 195
emphasis in all of advanced engineering programs during the period
1945-1959 had been on updating skills and training or retraining persons
for specific jobs in area firms. As a consequence, the student body tended
to be older employed men who were more concerned with upward mo-
bility in their immediate fields than with a theoretical grasp of engineering
principles.
Between i960 and 1975 this emphasis was to be changed. Encouraged
by the administration to respond to national as well as local needs for
highly skilled specialists, the School set about to adapt its programs away
from the predominantly practical bias that they had developed during the
1950s and toward a more theoretical, analytical approach that would equip
the students not simply for specific jobs but for a wide range of career
opportunities. The shift in policy was initiated under Dean Emil A. Gram-
storff, who had directed the graduate engineering programs from their
inception. The implementation, however, largely fell to Dean George W.
Hankinson, who took over direction of Graduate Engineering after Dr.
Gramstorff s retirement in 1962. A note in the Northeastern University
Graduate School ig6i-ig62 Catalog describing Electrical Engineering
indicates the problem and the solution: "The present trend in the field of
electrical engineering is toward a greater emphasis on physico-mathe-
matical techniques. Hence, the electrical curricula of the contemporary
graduate schools are emphasizing the analytical approach to electrical
engineering problems rather than the purely empirical. Accordingly, the
courses outlined below have been designed to present . . . analytical
methods used in . . . problems without, however, neglecting altogether
those practical considerations necessary for engineering applications."11
To strike a balance, then, between the theoretical and the practical
became the thrust of the School's policy during this period. To this end,
doctoral programs, which by their very nature might be expected to give
the student a broad but comprehensive understanding of their fields, were
introduced. Thus the Doctor of Philosophy in Electrical Engineering was
approved to begin in 1961, the Doctor of Philosophy in Chemical Engi-
neering in 1964, in Mechanical Engineering in 1965, and in Civil Engi-
neering in 1970. To some extent the order in which these programs were
introduced reflected national interest. In 1966 the National Science Foun-
dation awarded the University a 8900,000 grant toward the construction
of a new physics-electrical engineering building. It was the largest federal
grant awarded the University to that date and was a clear indication of the
government's recognition and approval of Northeastern's efforts in these
fields. That the Civil Engineering doctorate was not established until ten
years after the Ph.D. in Electrical Engineering also suggests that priorities
196 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
were ordered by national interest. By the early 1970s national concern
over the environment had become a major issue. Northeastern's programs,
which provided the Ph.D. in Environmental Engineering and Science, in-
cluding such areas of specialization as water quality management, water
and water waste engineering, environmental health and air pollution con-
trol, and solid waste management, clearly reflect this interest.
As the November 1, i960, "Proposal for Authorization of Doctoral
Programs" had suggested, doctoral work would affect Northeastern's ed-
ucation at all levels, and the experience of the Graduate School of Engi-
neering between i960 and 1975 attests to the validity of this idea. During
the period, faculty doubled, and the percentage of those with terminal
degrees went from approximately 21 percent to over 50 percent.12 As a
consequence, the School was able to upgrade existing programs and in-
troduce new master's programs with top-quality electives and options that
would prepare students for new responsibilities in a rapidly changing
world.
In i960, in anticipation of the doctoral program, the Department of
Chemical Engineering introduced a Master of Science program. In 1964
the Department of Civil Engineering established the Master of Science in
Sanitary Engineering. That same year the Department of Industrial Engi-
neering made available a Master of Science in the day program, and in
1967 it began offering a Master of Science in Engineering Management to
day students. New programs were also introduced in the evening, includ-
ing an innovative Master of Science in Electro-optics in 1966. 13
While all of these programs demonstrated far more sophistication
than those available in the 1940s and 1950s — that is, they were designed
to train students to understand the broad principles of their disciplines
and not simply their specific applicability — Northeastern never lost sight
of its professional mission. Thus, for example, in 1962 in direct response
to the expressed need of the power industry and with the cooperation of
twenty power companies, the School introduced a six-year integrated
cooperative program in Power Systems Engineering, leading to a Bachelor
of Science and Master of Science in Electrical Engineering. Criticized by
one member of the Corporation as being "too professional," the program
was defended by Dr. Knowles, who responded that he felt that universities
had a very important public service to perform: "It is their responsibility
to make available high-quality education in professional fields for the ap-
proximate number of persons who will be needed in each field. The
University also has the responsibility of attracting qualified students to
Graduate Education 197
embark on education for these professional fields."14 This attitude was to
stand the School in good stead, particularly during the lean years of the
early 1970s.
In 1970-71 the electronics belt surrounding Boston suffered a major
recession. As mentioned in the previous chapter, the effects on under-
graduate engineering were profound, with enrollment dropping some 41
percent between 1969 and 1972. The effects on graduate education were
equally severe. Between 1969 and 1972 enrollments plummeted from
2,306 to 1,426, or by approximately 40 percent. In one way, however, the
recession was not without its redeeming factors. Committed to attracting
qualified students for needed professions, the School moved to develop
new programs that would have currency even in the face of depression.
In 1970, then, the departments of Industrial Engineering and Electrical
Engineering established options in computer systems and computer sci-
ences respectively at the master's level. That same year the Department
of Civil Engineering introduced its Doctor of Philosophy in Environmental
Engineering. In 1971 still more graduate programs were added. The De-
partment of Industrial Engineering added an Operations Research option;
the Department of Civil Engineering and Science, under a grant from the
Department of Transportation, initiated a master's level interdisciplinary
program in Transportation Engineering, while the Department of Industrial
Engineering and Engineering Management introduced a master's level
Health Systems concentration for those who "show a desire to pursue a
career in health service."15
Nor were new programs the only way in which the School attempted
to stem the tide of attrition. In 1970 two new graduate degrees became
available: the Doctor of Engineering degree, which required five years
after the bachelor's and replaced the thesis requirement for the Ph.D. with
an engineering problem, and the Engineer degree, which was designed
for those who did not want the specialization required for the doctorate
but wished to continue beyond the master's level. The former was intro-
duced into the Department of Chemical Engineering in 1970, the latter in
Electrical Engineering in 1970 and in Mechanical Engineering in 1972.
Both degrees took into account the needs of students who either because
of inclination or economics did not wish the terminal degree; both dem-
onstrated the flexibility of the School to meet new demands; and both
proved highly successful.
By 1975 enrollment in the Graduate School of Engineering had sta-
bilized at 1,500. In terms of raw numbers, this growth is not significant —
198 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
there were 1,383 students in 1959. In terms of the sophistication of pro-
grams, the types of degrees, and the quality of the faculty, however, the
growth had been dramatic. Between 1959 and 1975 the School had added
seventeen new graduate programs, including four leading to the Doctor
of Philosophy, one leading to the Doctor of Engineering, and two leading
to the Engineer degree. Course offerings and options had also proliferated
at the master's level. At the same time the School had substantially in-
creased its faculty; full-time faculty equivalents had jumped from 61 in
i960, 20 percent of whom had the doctorate, to 1 18 in 1977, approximately
50 percent of whom had terminal degrees.16 Facilities had also been in-
creased by the renovation of older buildings and the construction of new
ones with space for programs of the School. Of particular importance were
the Charles A. Dana Research Center, which now housed the Electrical
Engineering Department, Edward L. Hurtig Hall, with room for Chemical
Engineering, and the David F. Edwards Marine Science Research Institute
in Nahant, which was available for the use of graduate students in Envi-
ronmental Engineering. In addition, the School's students had unprece-
dented opportunities to participate in highly sophisticated research
projects, which by 1975 had reached almost $3,000,000 in the Engineering
and related science areas. (See Chapter X.)
Graduate School of Business Administration
The third graduate school that existed when Dr. Knowles took office
and that was to undergo a major transformation during his administration
was the Graduate School of Business Administration.
In 1951 the first graduate program in business at Northeastern, the
Master of Business Administration (M.BA.) had been introduced as the
outgrowth of part-time evening programs. The curriculum, which was
"open to both degree candidates" and "special students," including those
whose "career achievement was judged as suitable substitute for the usual
bachelor's degree requirement," had, like its counterpart in the Evening
School of Engineering, a distinctly continuing education tone. The major
problems, as Dr. Crotty had pointed out, were lack of integration in
courses, a disproportionate number of part-time faculty, undefined ad-
mission standards, and an excessively practical orientation that was dic-
tated largely by local business and industry.17
The first step toward the resolution of these problems had been taken
in 1958 with the organization of the Graduate School, which was designed
to coordinate all programs at the advanced level and which, in form if not
in substance, would give them a new importance. It was not until the
decade and a half between i960 and 1975, however, that the problems of
Graduate Education 199
the Graduate School of Business Administration were truly confronted and
new policies implemented that would transform the School into an edu-
cational unit competitive in all respects with similar institutions across
the country.
As in the case of the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences and the
Graduate School of Engineering, the external condition mandating devel-
opment was a growing national need — this time for managerial skills. The
specific catalyst in this instance, however, emerged out of two exhaustive
examinations in 1959 of business schools throughout the nation, the
Gordon-Howell (Ford Foundation) report and the Pierson (Carnegie) re-
port.18 These papers prompted Northeastern's Graduate School of Business
Administration to reevaluate and reassess its own goals and means of
implementing them.
Primary among the findings of the Ford-Carnegie reports were the
conclusions that business administration was the interrelationship, not the
accumulation, of many specialized skills and that business schools "should
offer broad courses such as administration, human relations, managerial
economics, accounting, and statistics." Spurred by these ideas, North-
eastern's Graduate School of Business Administration moved to readjust
its curricula. In i960 the School introduced a plan whereby students might
concentrate on one major function of business rather than on a variety
of skill courses. Although thirty hours remained as the requirement for
a degree, the student was henceforth advised to take twenty of these hours
in a concentration. The Graduate Bulletin ig6s—66 articulates the rea-
soning behind this change: "The major objective [of the School] is to
develop as business administrators, men and women who are practicing
business administration in various public and private organizations. The
program is broad in concept and is aimed at preparing the student for a
career in business administration rather than for a particular position."19
The focus toward "careers" rather than "jobs," toward broad admin-
istrative skills rather than functional techniques, resulted in increasing
sophistication, integration, and broadening of course offerings. By 1970
seven new electives had been introduced into the M.B.A. program, and
by 1972—73 the M.B.A. program had been restructured into "two levels"
that permitted development of emphases in nonbusiness as well as busi-
ness fields. Health care administration was the first such nonbusiness em-
phasis, and course offerings in this area proved so successful that they
were vastly expanded in 1973—74.
The development of the Graduate School of Business Administration,
however, was not restricted to the improvement of curricula. In the in-
terest of a better program, admission standards also came under review.
200 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
The "special student" category was dropped in the early 1960s and ad-
mission tests started to be required. By 1965 scores were averaging 525,
which was in the 65th percentile of national achievement.
From the beginning, of course, the M.B.A. program had been based
on a work-study format — that is, the classroom was seen as a place to
provide a theoretical understanding of problems that were encountered
on the experiential level. During the 1960s and early 1970s this policy
remained intact. The student body continued to be dominated by older,
experienced men and women, the vast majority of whom were employed
and attended Northeastern part-time in the evening, while holding re-
sponsible positions in business and industry during the day. The shift in
emphasis, however, from specific jobs toward careers within this format
had made these programs even more appealing to an increasingly sophis-
ticated clientele. During the early 1970s, for example, when cutbacks in
the aerospace industry resulted in vast unemployment among scientists
and engineers, many of these people were anxious to begin new careers.
They were attracted by Northeastern's unique work-study opportunities,
and as a result enrollments swelled dramatically.
During this period a new type of student was also recruited. In 1963
the Graduate School of Business Administration inaugurated its first full-
time day programs. The curricula brought in more conventional stu-
dents— that is, young men and women in their twenties who had little or
no work experience. Over the years this group grew substantially from
7 in 1963 to approximately 157 in 1975 (out of a total enrollment of
1,007 ).20 The new program made the School more competitive with similar
institutions across the country and also gave it greater national visibility.
By and large these students were not commuters and were not tied to
local jobs. They were recruited from all fifty states and were available for
placement in all fifty states. The attraction of Northeastern's M.B.A. pro-
gram for the full-time student, as for the part-time student, was also the
work-study approach. In 1967—68 this approach was expanded with the
introduction of an innovative Management Internship program that al-
lowed students to alternate full-time periods of study with full-time in-
ternship programs.
As the programs and the students became increasingly sophisticated,
so also did the faculty. In 1951 the M.B.A. program had been largely staffed
by part-time personnel under the jurisdiction of the Evening Division. The
1958 formation of the Graduate School, replaced in 1963 by the Graduate
Division, had given the School more administrative autonomy and had
tied the programs more closely to the full-time day faculty. In 1967 a
further organizational change, abolishing the Graduate Division, decen-
Graduate Education 201
tralized graduate education entirely and allowed for even greater auton-
omy and greater integration of programs. By this time the program was
already dominated by full-time faculty, 70 percent of whom held doctoral
degrees, a proportion that continued through 1975.21 Part-time personnel
were still retained but were now limited to persons whose special skills
might be expected to enhance the coverage of specific courses.
In all, the period between i960 and 1975 was one of unqualified
development of the Graduate School of Business Administration. From an
evening unit with a largely part-time faculty, relatively eclectic course
offerings, and a primary commitment to the demands of local business and
industry, it had grown into an independent unit. Staffed by a full-time
faculty, it provided broad administrative programs in both the day and eve-
ning and was fully committed to the overall principles of good business.
The School's development was duly recognized when in 1973 the program
was accorded accreditation by the American Assembly of Collegiate
Schools of Business.
Graduate School of Education
The fourth graduate program available at Northeastern in 1959 was
offered through the College of Education. The program, which had been
inaugurated in 1953, is described in the College of Education Bulletin
iQ5g-6o: "During late afternoons, evenings, and Saturday mornings, the
Division of Education of the Graduate School also sponsors graduate
courses for teachers in service and leading to the Master of Education."22
Exclusively part-time, the program also provided certification for students
wishing positions in the public elementary and secondary school system
and a "unique in-service program for those wishing to up-date their skills."
Students were required to complete a core of four courses: Research
Methods, Advanced Psychology of Learning, and two courses in Social
Foundations of Education. These latter courses, which emphasized cultural
and physical anthropology as well as sociology, provided the base for
graduate study. Building on this social science base, then, the student
chose a program of specialization from one of the following areas: edu-
cational administration, special education, guidance and counseling, or
curriculum, which allowed those who already possessed a liberal arts
college degree to qualify for a certificate as either an elementary or sec-
ondary staff member.
In 1963, when graduate programs at Northeastern were reorganized
into the Graduate Division, Dr. Frank E. Marsh, Jr. became the first full-
time Director of Graduate Studies in Education. The new administrative
structure reflected an added emphasis on graduate study at the University,
202 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
and at this time the graduate education programs began to expand rapidly.
Contributing to their growth was not only the reorganization but also the
expansion of the undergraduate College of Education (see Chapter VIII)
and its increasing departmentalization. As a consequence, existing spe-
cializations were strengthened and new programs were added at all levels.
Among those specializations pertinent to graduate work were Reading,
Speech Therapy, Audiology, Rehabilitation Administration, and a program
called Liberal Arts Emphasis. Fifty percent of this program could be taken
in the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences, the Graduate School of Busi-
ness Administration, or the Graduate School of Engineering.
Still another factor giving substance to the Graduate School of Edu-
cation during the early 1960s was the addition of a full-time day program,
which grew from an initial enrollment of nine students in 1962 to ninety-
seven in 1966.23 As in the case of the Graduate School of Business Admin-
istration, the full-time program allowed the School to recruit more widely
and to become more competitive with similar institutions throughout the
country.
By 1967, at which point the Graduate Division was disbanded and
administration of the graduate programs returned to the full jurisdiction
of the basic colleges, the Graduate School of Education had become a much
larger and more professional college. From 246 part-time students enrolled
in 1959, it grew to an enrollment of 964 students, including both full- and
part-time students.24 Testifying to this new maturity was the grant of
full accreditation to the School by the National Council for the Accredi-
tation of Teacher Education (NCATE) accorded in 1967.
As if stimulated by the recognition of its status as well as by its
increased autonomy, the School continued to grow, adding not only new
programs but new degrees. In 1971 the Certificate of Advanced Graduate
Study (CAGS), described as a "way station between the master's and doc-
toral degree," was added. The degree, which required forty quarter hours
beyond the master's, clearly demonstrated the School's responsiveness to
those students who wished to add to their specialization but who did not
wish, or did not have time, to commit themselves to a doctoral program.
In 1974, after several years of very careful planning, still a second
degree after the master's, the Doctor of Education, was introduced. This
interdepartmental degree, which Vice President and Dean of Faculty Ar-
thur E. Fitzgerald called "more pragmatic, more expedient [than the Doc-
tor of Philosophy],"25 was designed as a mid-career program to train
leaders in the field of education. In fact, one criterion of admission was
that an applicant already have a minimum of five years in some leadership
role. The central core of the program was three doctoral seminars stressing
Graduate Education 203
the interdisciplinary nature of educational leadership, while the disser-
tation placed emphasis on applied research directed toward the solution
of specific problems rather than on original research, which would be
demanded for the Doctor of Philosophy degree. Specialization for the
Doctor of Education was provided in School Administration, Counseling,
Special Education, and Higher Education. In this latter area the focus could
be placed on the Cooperative Plan of Education, which was the first time
a terminal degree had ever been offered anywhere in this field. The ap-
propriateness of such an innovation to Northeastern need scarcely be
mentioned.
During the decade of the 1970s, it had become apparent that the need
for public school personnel was diminishing as the postwar baby boom
came to an end. During this period the Graduate School of Education, like
the undergraduate college, had begun to make necessary adjustments.
While it continued its school-related programs, it had introduced new
degrees and placed a new emphasis on community and service-type pro-
grams, such as College and Community Counseling, Rehabilitation Coun-
seling, Speech and Audiology, Higher Education Administration, and
Cooperative Education.
By 1975 graduate education programs at Northeastern had grown far
beyond those that had been dismissed as "also sponsored" in 1959. The
School now provided three different graduate degrees in a host of spe-
cialization to over 1,241 full- and part-time students. Furthermore, al-
though these specializations were still solidly based on a social science
foundation, they now prepared students not only for public school teach-
ing but for a wide variety of educational roles appropriate to the changing
needs of the late twentieth century.26
While the four graduate schools that existed in 1959 faced major
problems in the adaptation of curricula and policies to meet the demands
of the 1960s and 1970s, the new graduate schools that came into existence
during this period faced only the problem of developing their potential.
By 1962 when the New England College of Pharmacy became affiliated
with Northeastern, it was already clear that the University was committed
to graduate education, and the ability of any new basic college to develop
graduate work was a requisite of its establishment.27 Further, the function
of graduate education — to serve national needs, to add to the prestige of
the University, and to enhance the quality of undergraduate education —
204 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
had already been clearly defined. The stories of these schools, then, are
little more than descriptions of how these functions were filled.
The Graduate School of Pharmacy
As mentioned in Chapter VII, the Faculty Committee that was ap-
pointed to study the merger of the New England College of Pharmacy
with Northeastern University had included among its findings the per-
ception that such a college would "have the potential to develop graduate
and research programs." By 1964 this potential was already being realized
when a Graduate School of Pharmaceutical Sciences was added to the
roster of Northeastern's Graduate Division. The School provided the Mas-
ter of Science in Hospital Pharmacy, Industrial Pharmacy, Medicinal Chem-
istry, and Pharmacology. The two-year programs were based on a full-time
Graduate Cooperative Plan and were described in the catalog as "the first
ones in the United States requiring the acquisition of practical experience
through service in regular paying jobs in the particular field of study as
part of the education."28
In 1970 the doctoral program in Pharmacy was initiated when a Ph.D.
in Medicinal Chemistry became available. In 1971 the College was inte-
grated with Allied Health Professions, and the following year a program
leading to a master's in Medical Laboratory Science was established. In
1973 the Master of Clinical Chemistry became part of the degree offering,
and in 1974-75 the nation's first Master of Science degree program in
Radiopharmaceutical Science was introduced at the University. The pro-
gram was designed to train pharmacists and others in related fields to
compound and manufacture radioactive drugs for diagnostic and thera-
peutic tools in nuclear medicine. As such it represented a direct response
to an increasing demand for personnel to staff radiopharmaceutical po-
sitions that were becoming an integral part of many urban hospitals. North-
eastern's program, by being part-time, allowed the hospital pharmacist to
gear his or her career toward this field without having to leave a job for
full-time study, thus further underscoring the University's commitment to
work-study at all levels.
By 1975 Northeastern's Graduate School of Pharmacy and Allied
Health Professions, having reached an enrollment of 328 full- and part-
time students, had become a major source of advanced-trained personnel
for pharmacy-related positions in area hospitals.29
Graduate School of Boston-Bouve
The willingness to develop graduate programs had been one of the
contingencies of the merger agreement with Bouve-Boston. Although
Graduate Education 205
these programs were not fully developed until 1970, faculty committees
of the College had been examining and evaluating curriculum possibilities
since 1968. In the summer of that year, a survey was sent to all alumni of
the School to determine what areas they felt would most profit by ad-
vanced education programs. The results of the survey indicated that the
greatest need was felt in Physical Education and Recreation. In the former
instance, many of Boston-Bouve's graduates had gone on to become prin-
cipals and supervisors in schools throughout the country. For these grad-
uates, programs that would increase their administrative skills and their
grasp of problems implicit in education, particularly at the elementary
and secondary school level, were identified as the chief priorities. For
Recreation majors a growing recognition of the role of education as a
means "to further man's utilization of his leisure hours and to enhance his
appreciation of his environment"30 led to a desire for programs that would
help increase skills toward these ends.
As a result of the survey, two graduate programs were initiated in the
fall of 1970. The first lead to a Master of Science in Physical Education
with a concentration in either Administration and Supervision, or in Cur-
riculum and Instruction; the second led to a Master of Science in Recre-
ation with concentrations available in Community, Therapeutic, or
Outdoor Recreation. Both programs were well received, with an initial
enrollment of 41 part-time students.31 The part-time aspect of the program
was again largely dictated by the results of the survey, which had indicated
a preference for classes that would allow students to remain employed
while earning their degree. Thus most classes were scheduled in the late
afternoon or evening, a policy that continued even after the admission of
a handful of full-time students in 1972.
By 1975 enrollment had grown to 114, and two concentrations had
been added in Physical Education — Development and Learning in Move-
ment and Perception, and Sports Medicine.32 The latter was, of course,
quite appropriate to the University's interest in health sciences; it is in-
teresting to note that the School would have developed the scientific
aspect of physical education even further but felt constrained from doing
so because of similar programs at Boston University. To repeat professional
programs already available in the area was traditionally antithetical to
Northeastern's policies.
During the entire period of the Graduate School's development, Cath-
erine L. Allen served both as its Director and Dean of the Undergraduate
College. It was her dream, she said, to ultimately develop a doctorate in
a combined Health, Physical Education, and Recreation, but first priority
"had to be given to assuring quality in the programs that already existed."33
206 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
Thus by 1975 the dream had not yet been realized, but it remained as a
goal for the future and a constant spur to the development of programs
at all levels.
Graduate School of the College of Criminal Justice
As the establishment of the basic colleges of Pharmacy and Boston-
Bouve had been preceded by discussions of developing graduate programs
in these fields, so also the founding of the College of Criminal Justice was
preceded by similar discussions. During the first few years of its existence,
however, the College's attention was necessarily focused on the under-
graduate curriculum, and it was not until 1973 that 16 full-time and 59
part-time students were accepted into a graduate program leading to a
Master of Science in Criminal Justice. The program, designed "to provide
innovative concepts in academic study and research on crime using the
criminal justice process," was immediately well received and by 1974—75
had already reached a stage of sophistication that demanded reorganization
of its offerings into three concentrations: (1) Criminal Justice Adminis-
tration, Policy Development and Planning, (2) Research, and (3) Behav-
ioral Science Theory. By 1975, 138 students were enrolled in graduate
study, and an innovative interdisciplinary graduate program in Forensic
Chemistry, leading to a Master of Science degree awarded jointly by the
College of Criminal Justice and Liberal Arts, had been instituted.34
From the outset of the expansion of the seven graduate schools de-
scribed above, there was the recognition that advanced study was an
important ingredient in the development of education at all levels. As a
consequence, all of the above programs were closely tied to their equiv-
alents on the undergraduate level. The director of each of the graduate
schools reported not only to the dean of the graduate school but also to
the dean of the undergraduate college. The same faculty generally served
in both programs, and the curricula at one level was customarily designed
to work for the benefit of the curricula at another level. Thus, for example,
Boston-Bouve frankly discusses its graduate programs as extensions at a
more advanced stage of upper-class undergraduate programs, while the
College of Engineering, in its bid for reaccreditation, proudly writes of
"the process by which material . . . filters from the graduate programs
to the undergraduate."35
Noteworthy, however, as was the advance of graduate education in
areas allied to the basic colleges, it would be misleading to suggest that
Northeastern during this period was committed to advanced education
Graduate Education 207
only as it enhanced its undergraduate programs. In fact, and probably
even more significant for the overall history of the University, was the
growing recognition that graduate programs were justifiable even apart
from their relationship to undergraduate programs. This recognition was
made explicit in 1963 when the Graduate School was reorganized into the
Graduate Division. The rationale given for this change was that the sub-
stantial growth in graduate education, both in size and scope, justified
greater autonomy for the units and, even more significant, "that certain
new graduate programs do not fall logically within the purview" of any
of Northeastern's undergraduate colleges.36 From the point of view of
administrative structure, the new arrangement meant little more than a
change in terminology, but from the point of view of the general orien-
tation of the University, the change represented a dramatic break with the
past. For the first time advanced education was perceived as a legitimate
preoccupation of the University without any regard for its effect on un-
dergraduate studies, and the founding shortly thereafter of the graduate
schools of Actuarial Science and of Professional Accounting, and the re-
opening of the School of Law gave substance to this new perception.
Graduate School of Actuarial Science
In the fall of 1964 Northeastern's fifth graduate school opened with
an enrollment of sixteen students in a two-year program leading to the
Master of Science in Actuarial Science. The School was the first in the
nation to offer a graduate actuarial science program on the Cooperative
Plan of Education and the first graduate program at Northeastern to have
no direct affiliation with a basic college. In this sense, then, it was a
precedent setter; it must be admitted, however, that in its genesis there
had been no such revolutionary motive.
As originally conceived, the program, which would lead to the new
School, had been relatively modest. In the winter of 1962, Judge Byron K
Elliott, Chairman of the Board of Trustees at Northeastern and President
of John Hancock Mututal Life Insurance Company, noting the difficulties
of his company and others in obtaining actuaries, had suggested to Dr.
Knowles that a program for such training might well be introduced at
Northeastern.
Dr. Knowles was interested and, shortly after, serious discussion began
on a plan to institute a graduate cooperative program in this field at the
University. Dr. Knowles and Dean Roger S. Hamilton of the College of
Business Administration explored the idea at some length with represen-
tatives of the John Hancock Mutual Life Insurance Company, including
Robert E. Slater, Senior Vice President and Director of that Company, who
208 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
was to prove particularly helpful in the final formulation of the program.
In due course a tentative proposal was drawn up and referred to Dean
Hamilton. At this point it seemed most apt to include the new program
under the aegis of the Graduate School of Business Administration, but
Dr. Hamilton, having carefully reviewed the possibilities in relation to his
School, finally returned the verdict: "A program such as this which would
rely mainly upon members of the Mathematics Department plus well-
known names from among the Fellows of the Society [of Actuaries] for
the specialized actuarial courses would not improve the position of the
College of Business Administration in respect to the standards for listing
graduate programs in business."37
Thus, as of the spring of 1962, although the idea was gaining increasing
interest among local and, in fact, national insurance firms, the embryonic
program was without a home. At this point Professor Harold L. Stubbs of
the Department of Mathematics was placed in charge of developing the
program on grounds that the Department of Mathematics was beginning
a new Master of Science in the fall "and the Actuarial program will fit in
very nicely with this."38
Professor Stubbs, having been informed by the actuarial consultants
that in order for the program to be successful it must be oriented "very
specifically toward the Actuarial Society examination,"39 and having been
urged particularly by Mr. Slater to seek a fellow of that society as an
individual adviser to the program, began to look around for such a person.
In June 1962, he managed to secure the aid of Harold A. Garabedian, Vice
President of John Hancock. The choice could not have been more
fortuitous.
Mr. Garabedian's reputation in the field was widespread, and his as-
sociation with the Northeastern program gave it a legitimacy that attracted
the attention of insurance companies throughout the country. Such at-
tention would prove mandatory when it was finally determined that the
program could not be incorporated within another school but would have
to exist independently. That decision, however, still lay in the future.
The winter and spring of 1963 were preoccupied with details of staff
and curricula. The badge of the actuarial profession was membership in
the Society of Actuaries, and under Mr. Garabedian's direction it was
decided that the curriculum should be explicitly geared to the syllabus
of the Society and designed to prepare students for a series of examinations
necessary for membership in that Society. Thus a student completing a
two-year program might earn, in addition to a Master of Science in Actuarial
Science, the designation of Associate or Fellow of the Society of Actuaries
contingent on the successful completion of the Society's examinations.40
Graduate Education 209
To accomplish these ends, a schedule was arranged that originally con-
sisted of four intensive, ten-week, full-time day classes, with a course
coming to completion a week prior to a particular Society examination.
These periods, in accordance with the Cooperative Plan of Education,
alternated with on-the-job experience.
Having ironed out the details, the search for a permanent director
began. It was generally agreed that this person must have the experience
and the reputation that would bring status to the program from the start.
Dr. Geoffrey Crofts, a Fellow of the Society of Actuaries and Director of
Actuarial Training at Occidental Life Insurance in Los Angeles, perfectly
fulfilled these criteria, but, as he was not available until the summer of
1964, Mr. Garabedian agreed to stay on as Acting Director until that time.
Meanwhile, it was becoming increasingly apparent that the demands
of the Actuarial Program were such that it could not be suitably accom-
modated under an existing School, and on July 1 1, 1963, it was unanimously
voted "That on the recommendation of the President, the Executive Com-
mittee of the Board of Trustees approves the establishment of a Graduate
School of Actuarial Science."41 Northeastern's first independent graduate
school had been born.
The financing of the School, which came under the budget of no
existing department or other college, presented a unique problem. With
only tuition to depend on, it became more essential than ever that the
program receive the support of insurance companies. They would see in
it a unique opportunity to train needed personnel and would back up
their perception with tuition subsidies, supporting grants to meet defi-
ciencies in University costs and develop expenses, cooperative jobs, and
released time for already-employed candidates whose advancement the
companies might wish to encourage. Counting on the fact that the insur-
ance company business was flourishing, that the demand for actuaries far
exceeded the supply, and that Northeastern's School provided a unique
opportunity to fill this gap, Mr. Garabedian devised an Actuarial Internship
program. The School, in return for supplying actuaries in training to co-
operating companies, would receive a stipulated amount to cover tuition
costs, and the student would receive expenses incident to attending
classes.42
On October 21, 1963, an Actuarial Science Conference was held at
Henderson House. Guests included representatives of the University, of
twenty-two area insurance firms, and of area actuary clubs. "The next
stage in the development of our program is the enrollment of cooperating
companies," Dr. Knowles told his audience in the closing address of the
meeting, and he urged companies to write to him or Mr. Garabedian
210 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
expressing an intention to cooperate with the program. The response was
gratifying, and by January 1, 1964, twelve cooperating companies had been
enlisted.43 On June 1, 1964, the transfer of power from Mr. Garabedian to
Dr. Crofts, who had constantly kept abreast of events, was smoothly ef-
fected, and the first students were admitted for the fall.
It is undoubtedly a tribute to the care given the early plans for the
School that its history over the next eleven years was to prove relatively
uneventful. From the beginning, the curriculum had been tailored to the
requirements of the Society of Actuaries, and course changes occurred
only in keeping with their standards. Enrollments were also limited to
those who might reasonably be expected to fulfill the demands of that
Society and find, or be placed, in meaningful jobs in the field. In the early
1970s a nationwide recession caused a sharp cutback in the ability of the
insurance companies to sustain their cooperating role, and enrollment
slipped from a peak of 53 students in 1969 to a nadir of 30 students in
1973.44 The School, however, was determined not to modify its original
commitments, and by 1974-75, as the economy rallied, enrollment again
began to grow.
Nevertheless, in both good times and bad, the School was deliberately
kept small and standards were kept high. In 1965 John J. McKenna, a
prominent businessman and a member of Northeastern's Development
Office, was added to the staff to assist Dr. Crofts in the recruitment of
particularly able students. The faculty, never exceeding two or three full-
time members, was supplemented by visiting professors and fellows in the
society. And in 1967 an Advisory Council of top executives in the insurance
field was instituted to assure a continued close collaboration between the
School and the industry. Within this framework the School flourished, but
perhaps the most significant measure of its achievement was the degree
of success achieved by students in the program with the professional
examinations of the Society of Actuaries. By 1968 students had written
254 of these examinations, passing 190 for a pass rate of 75 percent, an
astonishing figure when compared with the national average of slightly
more than 40 percent.45 It was a record of which the first independent
Graduate School at Northeastern could be justly proud and one that it
would continue to live up to in the ensuing years.
Graduate School of Professional Accounting
The establishment of the first independent graduate school at North-
eastern was followed two years later in 1965 by the establishment of a
second graduate school — the Graduate School of Professional Accounting.
In their origin and development the two schools bear remarkable
Graduate Education 211
resemblances. In both instances the suggestion for the program came
initially from a member of the Board of Trustees who was also an executive
in a particular field which he felt the University could and should develop.
In the case of Actuarial Science, Judge Elliott had been the President of
John Hancock Insurance Company; in the case of the Graduate School of
Professional Accounting, the principal instigator, Harold Mock, was a se-
nior partner in Arthur Young and Company, a well-known Boston ac-
counting firm, and was himself a professional accountant. Identifying a
persistent and growing shortage of qualified persons entering his profes-
sion, Mr. Mock spoke with Dr. Knowles in the winter of 1962 about the
possibility of Northeastern developing a graduate-level program that might
help alleviate this problem, and shortly thereafter a committee was ap-
pointed to explore the situation. Northeastern had, of course, a well-de-
veloped undergraduate accounting department in the College of Business
Administration and a long history of programs in the field. Mr. Mock had,
in fact, been graduated with a concentration in this area from North-
eastern's Evening School of Commerce and Finance in 1923. The new
program, however, would be designed to bring a new type of person into
the field. Specifically it would be pitched not at undergraduate accounting
majors but highly talented liberal arts graduates of accredited colleges
who might be expected, after two years of intense training, to absorb all
aspects of the accounting field and to pass the CPA examinations.
As in the instance of Actuarial Science, the original idea was to offer
the degree through the Graduate School of Business Administration. Nom-
inally, at least, this was accomplished. In its recurrent bid for reaccredi-
tation, the Master of Science program in Professional Accounting is
included as part of the Graduate School of Business Administration. In
practice, however, the unit operates independently, having its own direc-
tor, its own recruitment program, and issuing its own brochures and
catalogs. The reason for this rather anomalous state lies as much as anything
in the kind of program that was developed.
As the idea began to evolve, it became clear that the most efficient
way to accomplish the twin purposes of immediately supplying trained
personnel for the accounting profession and simultaneously training them
would be to initiate an internship plan very much like the one already
operating in the Graduate School of Actuarial Science. This format differed
from that of other programs in the Graduate School of Business and, in
the interest of administrative clarity, a separate director was appointed.
Professor Joseph M. Golemme, who had been Chairman of Northeastern's
Undergraduate Department of Accounting, was asked to assume the post,
and he became permanent Director in 1966. In the meantime, an Advisory
212 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
Council made up of partners of the eight largest national accounting firms
and three partners from local firms was organized to keep the new School
in close contact with the profession and to guarantee jobs for the students
in training.46
Under the direction of Professor Golemme, the program flourished.
Of the first graduating class in the spring of 1967, 38 percent passed all
four parts of the CPA examination, and 80 percent passed two or more
parts. By September of that year the percentages had climbed to 40 percent
passing all four parts and 93 percent two or more parts. It was a record
that the School would continue to maintain, and one made all the more
impressive by the recognition that the overall average in Massachusetts
for passing all four parts of the examination on the first attempt was a
mere 16 percent. During the same period the graduates began to qualify
for top honors in the CPA examinations and by 1972 had already received
five gold medals, two silver, and numerous honorable mentions.47
In spite of these evidences of success, the School did encounter
several problems. Enrollment was kept deliberately small in accordance
with job opportunities, but even so there were difficulties in recruiting
qualified graduates. In a report of 1969, Professor Golemme bemoans the
fact that such a large amount of time and expense must be devoted to
recruiting students: "They seem to feel that professional accounting is not
very interesting, that no contribution to society is made." In light of the
social unrest and the antiestablishment, antibusiness attitude of that period,
and particularly in light of the change of the draft laws concerning graduate
students, it is perhaps not surprising that the School graduated only twenty-
seven students in 1969. It is probably equally significant, however, that
the enrollment rallied shortly thereafter. In 1973 it reached a peak of
seventy-six students, largely as a result of the recession in engineering,
which prompted a career shift for many in that profession.48 This was to
some extent an artificial inflation and was followed by natural attrition the
next year.
A second continuing problem was funding. While the Advisory Coun-
cil firms contributed tuition scholarships, which were augmented by the
University, operating expenses exceeded revenue, and again in 1969 Pro-
fessor Golemme writes: "It has been my hope that the accounting firms
will find it in their interest to express their confidence in this program
through an Endowed Chair [which will allow us] to attract an outstanding
scholar and the high quality students which the profession vitally needs."49
Shortly after, this hope was to be realized with the establishment of the
Harold A. Mock Professorship in Accounting to which Professor Golemme
was appointed in 1971.
Graduate Education 213
By 1975 enrollment had stabilized at approximately fifty students.
Sixteen courses were offered in a fifteen-month program, which encom-
passed a twelve-week internship program after the second quarter. Since
the first quarter of the entering class overlapped the final quarter of the
graduating class, an outstanding feature of the program came to be the
recruitment of six to eight visiting professors who arrived at Northeastern
each summer to teach courses in the School. These scholars supplemented
a faculty of six full-time accounting professors, culled from the under-
graduate accounting department, and three professional accountants from
outside firms who were responsible for specific professional programs.
Recruitment remained a major issue, with admission to the program
being highly competitive. The GMAT score was approximately 583, com-
paring favorably with scores attained for doctoral programs. Of 206 appli-
cants in 1975, 54 were admitted, representing 38 colleges, and, of these,
a large percentage came from outside Massachusetts, attesting to the wide
attraction of the program. The QPA was an impressive 3.10.50 Altogether
these statistics, underscored by excellent career progression, were sub-
stantial witnesses to the success of Northeastern's seventh graduate school.
School of Law
Of all the graduate professional schools instituted at Northeastern
during the Knowles administration, probably none more deeply touched
the sentiments of the community and the alumni than the reopening of
the School of Law in 1968.
The original School of Law, founded in 1898, had, of course, been the
foundation on which the University was built. In its heyday it had boasted
an enrollment of 2,500. At one time 25 percent of all Massachusetts judges
had been Northeastern University law graduates, nine others had gone on
to become bank presidents, and distinguished alumni included Lawrence
F. O'Brien, Postmaster General 1965—1968, Chairman of the Democratic
National Committee 1968—1969, and John O. Pastore, Senator from Rhode
Island. By the early 1950s, however, the School had fallen on hard times.
Similar programs were available in other higher education institutions,
and the expenditure of money required to continue the operation seemed
unwarranted under the circumstances. As a consequence, in April 1953
the Board of Trustees voted to discontinue the School. No entering class
was accepted for September, and the last graduate received a degree in
1956.
Practical as this move may have been at the time, however, the Uni-
versity had reckoned without the nostalgic affection of the alumni for its
alma mater. After only a brief hiatus, the Law School Alumni Association
214 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
declared the Association "has been reactivated and is starting continuous
communication to and among Alumni." By 1961 sentiments were already
being voiced on the possibility of reopening the School. On May 18, 1961,
Harold Mock, then serving as Chairman of the Leadership Gift Campaign
of the Northeastern University Alumni Fund, wrote to Dr. Knowles, quoting
Charles Dockser, President of the Garden City Trust Company and Law
School Alumnus 1930: "[Mr. Dockser] suggested the possibility that in the
years to come, since the University is going into graduate and possibly
doctorate work, it might again establish a law school . . ."51 Shortly after,
Peter W. Princi, Class of 1938, Collector of Customs, Port of Boston, later
United States Magistrate, approached Dr. Knowles with much the same
idea.
The ideas of these men and the constituency they represented did
not fall upon deaf ears. In the spring of 1963 Dr. Knowles wrote Mr. Princi:
"I want you to know that this whole matter is very much on my mind."52
He went on to suggest that Mr. Princi might establish a committee to
explore the possibility of reopening the School, and the following month
just such a group came into being.
The accomplishments of this committee cannot be overestimated. By
the spring of 1964 it had not only procured $150,000 in pledges toward
the goal of reopening the School but, working in conjunction with the
President's office, had amassed a host of pertinent information. By January
1965, Dr. Knowles was ready to introduce the idea to the Executive Com-
mittee of the Board of Trustees: "It would not appear that there is a need
for another College of Law just to meet the need for lawyers serving
Greater Boston. . . . Nationwide [however] . . . there is an apparent
growing shortage of legal talent. . . . Literature reveals . . . that the
Armed Forces need more lawyers . . . [and that] government agencies
are short of legal talent despite high salaries."
Dr. Knowles then went on to offer evidence that there was an in-
creasing demand for a new type of law program that would be fresh both
in terms of subject matter and approach. The Trustees were interested,
and at a meeting some months later a feasibility study was authorized to
explore the institution of "A graduate professional college of law con-
ducted on the Cooperative Plan of Education . . . which . . . would fit
in with other Northeastern graduate professional programs in such fields
as Accounting and Actuarial Science."53
With the plan thus officially authorized, the ball started to roll. It was
determined that the College of Law alumni should be asked to raise at
least a million dollars on the understanding that the College might be
reopened when $500,000 of the amount was received. The fund was to
Graduate Education 215
be kept separate from that of the Diamond Anniversay Development Pro-
gram. It is a tribute to the energy and enthusiasm of the alumni that a
brief year and a half later a substantial portion had already been raised.
At this point a new counter was introduced when the government, through
provisions of the Higher Education Act, Title II, made available funds for
the construction of law schools that were "already in existence" or had
a "dean in esse."
The government regulation made it necessary for the University
to act immediately on the question of the Law School were it to avail itself
of the new grant opportunity. Thus on May 13, 1966, with $500,000 already
in sight from alumni contributions and enthusiasm running high, the Board
of Trustees finally resolved. "A School of Law be and hereby is authorized
and established at Northeastern University."54
In the next few months an Advisory Council made up of prominent
men in the profession was organized to aid in plans for the reopening.55
By February 3, 1967, Professor Thomas J. O'Toole, a member of North-
eastern's earlier law faculty and the first choice of the Council, had ac-
cepted the invitation to become the new dean; George A. Strait, Assistant
Librarian at the Harvard Law School, was appointed Director of the Law
Library, and recruitment of the faculty was under way. In April 1967, a
grant of $397,590 was received from the federal government toward the
cost of constructing a new building to house the School. Thus, in the fall
of 1968, just seventy years after Northeastern had opened its first School
of Law, twenty-three students were admitted into its new, four-year grad-
uate program leading to a Juris Doctor (J.D.) — the first such program in
the country to operate on the Cooperative Plan of Education.
From its inception the new School was planned to be different, to be
innovative not only in its plan of education but in its curricula. A unique
aspect of the program was its cooperative cast. Early in the planning for
the School, the need for legal education to return to the apprentice con-
cept had been identified. The President of the American Bar Association
had been quite open in recognizing this need. To this end, then, and to
assure that each student would have a significant amount of genuine ex-
perience in a law office before receiving his degree, a system was devised
whereby students after the first year would alternate subsequent quarters
between classroom attendance and employment in a law office. At the
same time the curriculum of the School was "shaped in substantial measure
around significant issues of contemporary life, especially those that arise
with increasing urgency in our populous metropolitan area." In the words
of Dean O'Toole, "Our students have to have a commitment to urban
involvement and the cooperative plan to come here."56 Courses were thus
2l6 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
deliberately focused on the law of modern urban social problems including
drugs, race, conscientious objectors, and landlord/tenant relationships.
One second-year class considered the legal aspects of population problems
such as abortions, birth control, migrations, and population shifts, partic-
ularly of the poor; another dealt with environmental pollution of water,
air, and noise.
Over the next seven years the School developed from a mere handful
of students meeting with six professors in makeshift headquarters on the
Fenway to a fully accredited institution boasting approximately 375 stu-
dents, a full-time staff of twelve faculty and administrators, and a brand
new million-dollar building on Huntington Avenue. The issues that preoc-
cupied the attention of Dean O'Toole, and later of John O'Byrne, were,
of course, issues directly related to this metamorphosis.
From the first, Dean O'Toole was determined that the School be
second to none in the quality of its faculty, students, and facilities. Funding
was a major issue, and it is a tribute to the loyalty of the alumni and the
unflagging efforts of the University staff that such monies were forthcom-
ing. Government grants — for example, one for $31,410 awarded by the
NEH in 1969 for the "study of law, customs and beliefs which shape the
composition and movement of populations" — contributed to the support
of programs, but by far the major source was alumni generosity. A con-
spicuous, but by no means atypical example of this generosity, was evident
in the pledge of Boston industrialist and philanthropist Reuben Gryzmish,
Northeastern University Law graduate 1912 and developer of the first
causeway between Miami Beach and Miami. His pledge resulted in the
Reuben and Ethel Gryzmish Law Building being ready for occupancy in
1969—70, with dedication taking place December 19, 1970.
In the meantime, program revision to meet the shifting needs of
society was an ongoing concern. In 1970, with the approval of the American
Bar Association, the four-year program initially proposed was reduced to
three years and two summer quarters (seven academic and four coop-
erative quarters), which placed the School in an even stronger competitive
position with its peers. Curriculum was also modified to reflect new in-
terests, but the overall goals and approach remained the same. The
1968-69 Law catalog sums up the function of the School: "The purpose of
the Northeastern University School of Law is to train lawyers who can
meet the challenges and obligations cast upon the profession by contem-
porary society. The School was founded on the conviction that traditional
legal education inadequately approaches this goal, and that law schools
have not altered their programs quickly enough to match the pace of
change on the world and national scene."57
Graduate Education 217
Over the next decade this statement was essentially unaltered with
the exception of the last phrase, which in 1973 was modified from the
original almost adversary note to the more confident and moderate state-
ment that "traditional legal education inadequately attains this goal and
that a law school program must match the pace of change in the world
and national scene.'"58
The validity of the School's goals and approach was affirmed in 1969
when it was accorded provisional accreditation by the American Bar As-
sociation. It was reaffirmed when full accreditation was granted February
7, 1971. Although problems were encountered in the state of New York,
which was reluctant to accept "co-op" experience in lieu of courses, the
New York Court of Appeals approval was finally secured. In the meantime,
the School had also become a member in 1970 of the Association of
American Law Schools.
That such validation was so quickly accorded was as much as anything
a tribute to the fiery Irish determination of Thomas O'Toole, who would
brook no compromise in the maintenance of standards. By 1970 the median
LSAT score of admitted students was 644, in the top percentile nationwide,
QPA was 3.15, and applications far outstripped acceptances. Dean O'Toole
was equally adamant that his faculty be without peer, and he thus recruited
persons of top qualifications.
Unfortunately, despite Dean O'Toole's unquestioned success in found-
ing the new law school, basic disagreements soon developed between
himself and the faculty, which eventually were to culminate in Dean
O'Toole's resignation in 1971. Despite these disagreements and their con-
sequences, however, the faculty remained staunch in their admiration of
Dean O'Toole's contributions to the creation of the School and of his
extraordinary teaching ability. It was an admiration that was duly reflected
in the faculty's unanimous recommendation to the Board of Trustees that
he be appointed to the Edwin W. Hadley Professorship of Law, one of the
six endowed chairs at the University.
Thus in 1971 the School was forced to seek a new dean. Determined
that there would be no lapse in the high standards set by Dean O'Toole,
the President appointed Philip C. Boyd, University Attorney and Special
Assistant to the President, as Acting Dean while a committee embarked
on a year-long search to find a permanent replacement. In July 1972, John
C. O'Byrne, Harvard L.L.B. 1948, and Professor of Law at Northwestern
School of Law, became the School's second full-time Dean.
During the next three years under the leadership of Dean O'Byrne,
policies instituted under Dean O'Toole were continued. From the begin-
ning the School had been innovative, not simply in its Cooperative Plan
2l8 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
of Education and its curriculum but also in its recruitment policies. Under
Dean O'Toole, and even before such an approach was popular, women
and minorities had been deliberately encouraged. As a result, by 1970,
women represented 48 percent of the enrollment, and by 1975 women
represented over 50 percent and minorities represented approximately
10 percent. The first woman law student's newspaper Pro Se was founded
and published at Northeastern under the administration of Dean O'Byrne,
and a chapter of BALSA (Black American Law Students Association) was
also established.
The success of all of these ventures is witnessed by a 1978 alumni
questionnaire that elicited the response from 96 percent of those who
answered that the cooperative experience had been "good," a "worthy,
successful part of legal education," with 99 percent stating that they "pre-
ferred Northeastern with its co-op plan to a traditional program or a two-
year law school in session eleven months a year." The same questionnaire
identified the presence of older students and women as significant aspects
of the School's atmosphere and mentioned the nontraditional approach
with emphasis on public service, and pass/fail grading system as "important
ingredients on the School's learning environment."59
That this general sense of accomplishment was not merely an in-
house assessment is borne out by the consensus statement of the 1978
Inspection Committee of the American Bar Association: "Northeastern
Law School may soon be the most highly regarded law school in New
England after Harvard and Yale."60
6
In 1959 Northeastern had been a primarily undergraduate institution
with only a handful of graduate programs. Of the 2,840 students enrolled
in such programs, the majority were older, part-time persons, of whom
1,383 were in Engineering, 707 in Business Administration, 246 in Edu-
cation, with the remainder largely serving as teaching fellows in some
area of Liberal Arts. By 1975 Northeastern was offering graduate work in
ten different schools: Engineering, Business Administration, Arts and Sci-
ences, Boston-Bouve, Criminal Justice, Pharmacy and Allied Health Profes-
sions, Actuarial Science, Professional Accounting, and Law. Total graduate
enrollment had reached almost 6,000, a quarter of whom were full-time
regular students.
Mere numbers, however, cannot convey the qualitative change that
had occurred in the concept and conduct of graduate programs over that
period. Early in its term, the third administration had recognized that only
Graduate Education 219
through graduate education, research, and research training could the
University hope to attract topflight faculty, and only through such pro-
grams could it enhance its undergraduate programs and fulfill its com-
mitment to a society that was demanding more and more highly trained
specialists.
Over the years new programs were tried, new degrees were instituted,
and new faculty capable of teaching graduate level programs were added.
Significantly, with the exception of those graduate schools that had no
undergraduate equivalent, there was no graduate faculty per se, and all
faculty were expected to teach twelve credit hours. As graduate courses
met less frequently than undergraduate ones, however, contact hours with
students were somewhat less for persons teaching upper-level programs.
Up until 1964 when Northeastern's calendar changed, teaching assign-
ments on two levels could also entail certain logistic problems. Up until
this point undergraduate programs met for four, ten-week sessions with
two, five -week summer sessions. The graduate calendar, however, was
somewhat more traditional, operating on a sixteen-week semester system
with two, six-week summer sessions. In 1964—65 the calendar for the
entire University was regularized into four quarters of thirteen weeks
apiece, and faculty was at least spared that mathematical wrangle.
During these years the administrative organization of graduate pro-
grams also changed but always toward the end of making the delivery
more efficient, more effective, more academically competitive. Thus in
1963 the Graduate School had been dissolved to be replaced by a Graduate
Division, which gave the programs greater autonomy and allowed for
programs that were not affiliated with basic college programs. In 1966 a
University graduate council was formed to oversee and coordinate pro-
grams, and in 1967 on the retirement of Dean Arthur A. Vernon, who had
directed graduate activities since 1958, the various units became even
more responsible for the conduct of their own affairs.
As a consequence of concerted effort — a willingness to experiment
and to venture outward — graduate education became a major part of the
University and much of the academic distinction that Northeastern was
to gain at all levels during this period must be attributed to the gains that
it made in this area.
X
Research
The dramatic expansion in graduate education that was experienced in
the 1960s and early 1970s was not surprisingly accompanied by a parallel
expansion in research. In fact to divide the two, even in the interest of
appropriate subject classification, is an artificial distinction; as Dr. Knowles
noted in his inaugural address, "Research and instruction go hand-in-hand,
particularly at the graduate level of instruction." It is no coincidence,
then, that as more attention was focused on advanced education, so also
was more attention focused on research: the budget for this area alone
went from $353,000 in 1958 to almost $5,000,000 in 1975. ' More significant
than the financial figures, however, were the kinds of research that de-
veloped, the policies that informed its growth, and the effect that expanded
research efforts had on the Institution as a whole.
Traditionally, Northeastern, as an undergraduate institution, had not
encouraged, although it had certainly not discouraged, individual research
projects — especially as these pursuits contributed to the enhancement of
the faculty and the increase of opportunities for undergraduates. Signifi-
220
Research 221
cantly, however, there was no official recognition of the role of research
until 1939.
At that time then Assistant Professor Asa Knowles became Dean of
the College of Business Administration and simultaneously founded and
assumed the Directorship of a Bureau of Business Research. The Bureau
served the interests of research at the University by encouraging under-
graduates working with Professor Knowles to become involved in original
projects specially designed to broaden their understanding of business
principles; to this end, the Bureau created a forum for faculty to discuss
and study business problems and provided via its official journal, North-
eastern University Publications, a vehicle through which faculty, not only
in Business but in Liberal Arts and Engineering as well, could publish the
fruits of their own scholarly investigations.
If the Bureau was the first step in the official recognition of the role
of research at Northeastern, the acceptance in 1940 of teaching fellows
working toward their master's in the Department of Chemistry was the
second. The projects pursued at this level were relatively unsophisticated;
nevertheless, the enrollment of graduate students demonstrated the Uni-
versity's willingness to train young researchers and gave a legitimacy to
investigative study as an educational tool — a status that it had not pre-
viously enjoyed at the University.
In 1945 the third and perhaps most important of these early steps
occurred when the University accepted its first sponsored project. Al-
though this date may be now understood as the beginning of a new era,
there is no evidence that contemporaries viewed it as such. Briefly, what
happened was that Dr. Carl F. Muckenhoupt, then serving as Liaison Officer
with the Office of Naval Research but formerly Chairman of the Depart-
ment of Physics and a member of the faculty at Northeastern, 1929-1945,
directed toward the University a government-sponsored research contract.
In terms of money the project was relatively small, involving only $10,000,
but in terms of opening the way for sponsored research as an important
aspect of the University's service the effects were considerable.
The first project went well, and a brief three years later, in 1948, the
Air Force Cambridge Research Center underwrote four major projects
with the Electrical Engineering Department. Professors Martin W. Essig-
mann and George Pike, who together wrote the proposals, became co-
principal investigators and in this capacity recruited Northeastern's first
full-time research professor, Dr. Sze-Hou Chang, and three research as-
sistants.2 With the advent of the Korean War, the Air Force extended its
programs. Professor Essigmann was named Coordinator of Electronics
Research to head a new entity called Electronics Research Projects (ERP).
222 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
ERP undertook the administration of the new contracts, which by the late
1950s involved a quarter million dollars and faculty in the departments of
English, Mathematics, Psychology, and Mechanical Engineering as well as
Electrical Engineering.
In the meantime, in-house research was also developing, largely as
a result of increased faculty interest and expanding graduate programs. In
1954, the first tentative effort to coordinate all of these endeavors resulted
in the establishment of a Faculty Committee on Development and Coor-
dination of Research. Dr. William C. White served as Chairman and Dr.
Ralph A. Troupe, whose official title read "Research Professor of Chemical
Engineering," served as Secretary. Under their direction a Basic Research
Fund was established, which was fed by small amounts from the general
unrestricted funds of the University, direct grants from industry, and later
by small amounts that reflected the overhead return on government con-
tracts. Although the monies available from the Basic Research Fund were
minimal, they served an important function in that they provided seed
money for projects that might later be sponsored and made available small
grants to members of the faculty to develop promising activities, which
because of their nature would not be funded by outside sponsors.
Noteworthy as all these achievements were, by 1959 research was
still a very secondary aspect of the University. There were less than two
dozen active researchers, incuding principal investigators, master's can-
didates, and undergraduate and "co-op" assistants. The total overall budget
of $350,000 covered some thirty-five projects, largely confined to business
under the direction of Dr. William H. Miernyk, to chemical engineering
directed by Ralph A. Troupe, and to electrical engineering under Martin
W. Essigmann.3 Individual faculty members certainly did pursue their own
investigations — mostly on their own time — but it would be impossible
to say how many were actively involved in intensive work. Certainly the
pressure to "publish or perish" was not part of the Northeastern psyche.
This latter fact may seem quite endearing when viewed from the
vantage of the early 1980s. However, Dr. Knowles, on returning to North-
eastern for orientation in the fall of 1958, soon became aware that many
members of the faculty, particularly the younger members and those in
science and technology, were growing increasingly anxious abut the limits
being imposed on their own careers by the lack of active support for
research at Northeastern. The research policy pertaining at that time had
been explicitly articulated by Dr. Ell in the spring of 1957, when he had
expressed his view of Northeastern as "primarily a teaching institution."
He had gone on to say that accordingly the administration encouraged
research and other activities "only to the extent that they increase effi-
Research 223
ciency and effectiveness in the teaching process."4 While such a policy
was justifiable in light of the kind of institution Northeastern was, the
President-Elect felt it might deserve some reassessment in light of the kind
of institution Northeastern could become.
Basic to Dr. Knowles's reaction was his recognition that were North-
eastern to extend its programs, particularly to the doctoral level, it could
hardly do so without providing facilities to train young researchers. Fur-
ther, it could not hope to attract top-level scholars capable of leading such
programs without offering them the opportunities to pursue their own
professional investigations.
This latter point was brought home in i960 when the President au-
thorized Dean William T. Alexander of the College of Engineering to make
four top-level positions available in the Department of Physics as a pre-
liminary to the introduction of Ph.D. studies. As pointed out in Chapter
VIII, both Dr. Roy Weinstein and Dr. Marvin H. Freidman, the first two
men to accept these positions, made it quite clear that, although they were
intrigued by the challenge of setting up a doctoral program, they could
not consider the appointments unless Northeastern's offer conformed to
the U.S. norm for research professors — namely, one-half to one-third re-
leased time for their own investigations. Significantly, Northeastern did
not hesitate.
This, however, is to get ahead of our story. In 1958—59 the second
factor contributing to Dr. Knowles's feeling that Northeastern must reas-
sess its research attitude was his perception of the national situation and
his concern for the University's role in relation to that situation. Since
World War II, when the federal government had first discovered the
universities as a source of research, government funding for these activities
had increased substantially. Although this funding had flagged somewhat
directly after 1945, it was revived again with the heating up of the cold
war, and both Presidents Truman and Eisenhower allocated heavy appro-
priations for research, particularly in the physical and biological sciences
considered essential to the national welfare. The launching of Sputnik on
October 4, 1957, sparked even greater concern. The National Aeronautics
and Space Agency was established in October 1958, and shortly thereafter
an Advanced Research Projects Agency was set up to coordinate the ever-
expanding government expenditures in the research area. The numbers
involved are indicative: In 1940 federal support of research was
$75,000,000; by i960 it had risen to $8,000,000,000, with approximately
10 percent of that amount allotted to universities. 5
Thus, from the point of view of Northeastern's obligation to the coun-
try, from the point of view of its own stature as a university, and from the
224 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
point of view of financial expedience, it became imperative that the Uni-
versity review its research position. In the winter of 1958, then, Dr.
Knowles encouraged President Ell to establish a Dean of Research Admin-
istration at Northeastern, and Dr. Carl F. Muckenhoupt left the Office of
Naval Research Administration to assume that post. His charge was to
devote "full time to the promotion, encouragement, and coordination of
all research projects."6
Although the appointment had occurred within the last months of Dr.
Ell's administration, it had been promoted by Dr. Knowles and, in this
sense, gave a clear indication that the review had been made and a new
course charted. Significantly, within two years sponsored projects jumped
to $1,400,000, eliciting the comment from Dean Muckenhoupt that "per-
haps the greatest difficulty facing a college or university undertaking spon-
sored research on a sizable scale is that of recognition. ... I am happy
to report that Northeastern is now well recognized as having a large
research potential and an administration favorable to research. Sponsoring
agencies are becoming increasingly aware of our research capabilities."7
During the same period the University also began its first moves to intro-
duce doctoral-level programs in chemistry, physics, and electrical engi-
neering, ultimately approved to begin in the fall of 1961 (see Chapter FX).
From the combination of these efforts — the coordination and encourage-
ment of research and the retention of new research faculty — dates the
opening of modern research development at Northeastern.
In late 1961 Dr. Muckenhoupt expressed his desire to return to full-
time teaching. Professor Martin W. Essigmann, who was still serving as
head of the Electronics Research Project (ERP), at that time the largest
research unit at the University, was appointed his replacement, with the
shortened title, Dean of Research.
Under Dean Essigmann, the ERP was expanded and developed and
later renamed the Office of Research Administration (ORA). Its main func-
tion was to assist the faculty in the procurement of grants and contracts
and to administer their operation. The duties of this office were complex
and all-encompassing. They included encouraging and assisting faculty
members to prepare proposals, maintaining close liaison with the Provost
and Financial Officer in the development of research budgets and the
authorization of the disbursement of grants and contracts, supervising the
administration of all sponsored research programs, and managing the Basic
Research Fund.
These tasks were no simple undertaking; nevertheless, the effective-
ness of the operation was soon demonstrated as a few comparative figures
indicate. During the 1961—62 fiscal year, a total of $1,800,000 was expended
Research 225
on research sponsored by the National Science Foundation, the U.S. Air
Force, the U.S. Army, the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, the U.S. De-
partment of Health, Education and Welfare, and Northeastern's own Basic
Research Fund. Thirty-five projects were sponsored by grants from or-
ganizations outside the University and 26 by the University itself. By 1966
there were 68 sponsored projects spread over 21 funding agencies with
a total annual expenditure in excess of $3,000,000. Twelve years later these
numbers had swelled to approximately 130 sponsored programs spread
over 25 funding agencies for a total annual expenditure of $7,70o,ooo.8
Between 1959 and 1975 research projects were developed at North-
eastern in almost all departments. This is not surprising in light of the
growth of graduate studies, which by 1975 had reached almost fifty pro-
grams on the master's and doctoral levels as opposed to nineteen a decade
and a half earlier. Nor is it surprising in light of the new encouragement
given to research during this period as described in the previous section.
Nevertheless, the major projects — that is, those that involved more
than one or two individuals and elicited money and attention from outside
organizations — generally fell into only a few areas: science, social science,
and business, and, later in the decade, health science and cooperative
education. Most heavily involved were the following: the departments of
Biology, Chemistry, Mathematics, Pharmacy, Physics, Sociology, Anthro-
pology; Chemical, Industrial, Electrical, Civil, and Mechanical Engineering;
the Center for Continuing Education; and the Bureau of Business and
Economic Research. In light of the University's own history and the na-
tional priorities, these facts are not, of course, surprising either.
At Northeastern the departments of Chemistry, Electrical Engineering,
and Physics had all been involved in the University's first major sponsored
contracts. Historical precedent thus favored development in these areas,
and throughout the period projects in these fields continued to command
the majority of the funding. In addition, particularly early in the decade,
national interest was predominantly focused on problems that fell within
these areas. A quick glance at some of the University's largest sponsored
projects for 1959—60 — communication theory, rocket telemetry, particle
damage to the surface of space vehicles, and energy for space travel —
reflects this interest.
Later in the decade, such projects as those on water pollution and
water quality at the Edwards Marine Science Institute, and those on the
effect of industrial attrition on the state's economy under Electrical En-
226 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
gineering and Economics, tended to reflect a more sociological and en-
vironmental concern. At all times, however, the research undertaken by
the University would consistently demonstrate a close correlation be-
tween national interests and University strengths. To fully appreciate the
scope and contribution of Northeastern's research, however, it is necessary
to look at least briefly at some of the specific projects that were being
undertaken.
Science Research
By 1962 when Professor Martin W. Essigmann took over the Office
of Research Administration, by far the largest slice of the research pie was
being allotted to his Department of Electrical Engineering. This was di-
rectly attributable to the continuation of the long-standing research in
communications, which was being funded by the Air Force Cambridge
Research Laboratories and which provided major support for doctoral
candidates in Electrical Engineering. Other research in the Department
included work on night and day airglow, micrometeorite detection, and
ion density profile determinations as well as investigations of antennae in
the presence of plasmas, the analysis of complex systems, and the fun-
damental characteristics of larynx signals.
The formidable sound of these programs alone serves to suggest, even
to the layman who cannot really hope to fathom their full meaning, that
the Department by this point was involved in complex and far-reaching
projects relevant to national interests. It is an insight that is corroborated
by the list of sponsoring agencies, which included the National Aeronautics
and Space Administration (NASA), the National Science Foundation (NSF),
the Department of Health, Education and Welfare, and the U.S. Armed
Forces, to name only a few.
Other major projects were being conducted under the Department
of Physics. For example, Professor Roy Weinstein of that Department was
serving as the principal investigator in a project using the Cambridge
Electron Accelerator, the highest energy accelerator of its type in the
world, to demonstrate the validity of certain fundamental laws of quantum
electromagnetism. Other projects in Physics, which again to the layman
have the ring of science fiction but more aptly illustrate the national
interests of the period, included research in nuclear spectroscopy, plasma
diagnostics, high-energy collision phenomena, and magnetic field prob-
lems in astrophysics.
Simultaneously, new investigations were also beginning in Chemistry.
Research 227
Dr. Karl Weiss, who had come to the University in 1961 to help in the
development of that Department's doctoral program, was particularly in-
strumental in developing contracts in the areas of photochemistry and
spectroscopy. At the same time, the Department of Mechanical Engineer-
ing began work on problems of thin films of silicon and mathematical
models for describing metal alloys.
The point, however, is not to boggle the mind of the reader with a
litany of projects but only to indicate that by 1962 the departments of
Physics, Chemistry, and Electrical and Mechanical Engineering were in-
volved in highly sophisticated research projects that commanded over
half of the research budget and that ultimately necessitated the establish-
ment of new facilities, such as laboratories in the Mugar Life Sciences
Building, the Dana Research Center, Hurtig Hall, and vast areas of the
United Realty Building. It was an involvement that would continue over
the next dozen years. By the 1970s the Physics Department was at work
on a project in Elementary and Particle Physics under the sponsorship of
the NSF, and the Chemistry Department was exploring Gas Chromatog-
raphy under a grant from the National Institute of General Medical Science.
At the same time research projects in other departments of science
were also flourishing. In 1967 the Center for Continuing Education was
awarded a grant of $64,000 by NASA to conduct a summer Faculty Fel-
lowship Program with the NASA Electronic Research Center in Cambridge.
In that same year the Department of Mathematics received a $44,000 grant
from NSF for research in ergodic theory, convex complex manifolds, and
differential topology. Some of the most dramatic research developments
took place under the Department of Biology in conjunction with the
Department of Chemistry and later with the Department of Civil Engineering.
In the mid-1960s, for a variety of reasons, Northeastern had become
interested in marine science research (see Chapter XX for details of this
development). As a consequence, in 1966 the University acquired property
in Nahant, Massachusetts, which was dedicated in 1969 as the Edwards
Marine Science Institute. The facility, one of the few in the country owned
by a university and operated year-round, allowed for sophisticated re-
search into problems of marine zoology, marine microbiology, and ocean
chemistry. A unique feature of the Institute was that it faced the clean sea
water of the Atlantic Ocean to the north and the polluted water of Boston
Harbor to the south. Thus, as ecology became an increasingly important
national concern, Northeastern was able to add research into water quality
and water pollution to its roster of research programs. By 1970 the Institute
228 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
was attracting scientists from around the world. Papers by members of
the departments of Chemistry, Biology, and Civil Engineering were ap-
pearing with regularity in scientific journals, and master's and doctoral
theses, not only by Northeastern graduates but by graduates from Tufts
and Harvard, were being written on material investigated at the facility.
Expansion in research under the Department of Biology, however,
was not limited to marine studies. In 1967 the University acquired a sub-
stantial holding — the Cummings estate, including a greenhouse — which
was adjacent to its suburban campus in Burlington. The property subse-
quently was called the Northeastern University Burlington Botanical Re-
search Institute. The greenhouse, which alone comprised some 10,000
square feet, contained a permanent garden of tropical plants, a collection
of plants having specific economic value, and a unique geranium and
begonia collection. With this acquisition, new opportunities for botanical
research opened up. So impressive, in fact, was the facility and the op-
portunities it provided that not only Northeastern but a host of local
colleges and universities, such as Wellesley, Harvard, and MIT, sent their
graduate students to "The Greenhouse" for certain advanced research
projects.
While this brief summary does not comprehend all the projects that
took place in the area of pure science during the period, it does at least
indicate the range and scope of some of the research programs to which
the departments of Biology, Chemistry, Mathematics, and Physics as well
as departments in Engineering and Continuing Education contributed their
energies.
Social Science Research
If investigations directed toward the end of increasing scientific
knowledge in areas most directly related to national interests occupied
the forefront of the University's research attention between i960 and 1975,
investigations directed toward the end of increasing knowledge of social
behavior and social structures did not lag far behind. The first major
concerted effort in this direction began in 1961—62 with the establishment
of the Northeastern University Social Research Institute (NUSRI), which
had as its expressed purpose "to facilitate the handling of contracts be-
tween the University and sponsors of research in the community." The
potential areas of investigation were seen as education, health, urban re-
newal, and juvenile rehabilitation. Plans were laid for the development of
cooperative research with such local agencies as Action for Boston Com-
munity Development and the National Conference of Christians and Jews.
The NUSRI also endorsed certain specific faculty research projects.
Research 229
For example, Professor Antonio L. Mezzacappa in the Modern Language
Department completed a study in 1961 on the "Effectiveness of Teaching
Machines for Instruction on Foreign Language Expression." In addition,
the NUSRI endorsed three other independent studies in the area of nine-
teenth-century political and social thought.9 Although the Institute itself
proved relatively short-lived, the kind of projects that it had envisioned
investigating were subsumed under the aegis of other areas in the Uni-
versity. In this sense, then, the Institute may be seen as an early effort to
give legitimacy to research in certain kinds of social problems but partic-
ularly those that had immediate relevance to the community.
Another Institute begun during this period and destined to have a far-
reaching effect on the research pursuits of the University was the Voca-
tional Rehabilitation Administration Regional Research Institute. Opened
on November 1, 1963, with a grant of more than $48,000 from the VRA,
its purpose was "to further the development of research which will lead
to more effective solutions to the problems of motivation and dependency
as they relate to the rehabilitation of the disabled." Under Director Reuben
J. Margolin, Associate Professor of Social Sciences and Director of Research,
and Dr. George J. Goldin, Associate Professor of Social Sciences, the In-
stitute was also designed to serve the Rehabilitation Offices of the New
England States and by "cooperative research and consultive relationships
to help state and private rehabilitation agencies with urgent problems."10
By 1966 the Institute had received grants totaling $269,000 from the
VRA of the Federal Department of Health, Education and Welfare. The
Institute had also published three studies dealing with the problems of
what keeps a patient dependent and how such a person can be motivated
to break that dependency. A study designed to help deaf students cope
with problems in attending college for the normal hearing was also under
way. At this point the Institute and certain rehabilitation-related academic
degree programs in the College of Education were brought together to
form a totally new Department of Rehabilitation and Special Education.
Within this new organizational structure plans were made to broaden
research ventures. New grants were awarded, such as one from the VRA
for $18,000, and one from the Epilepsy Foundation to study psychosocial
needs of adolescent epileptics.
In 1969 a grant of $400,650 was made available to the University by
the Department of Health, Education and Welfare for a series of dependency
studies in welfare agencies, hospitals, sheltered workshops, and state re-
habilitation agencies. Another $90,000 grant from the same source went
into a study of the physically, mentally, and severely disabled. By 1970—71
two graduate-level degrees, the master's and the Certificate of Advanced
23O ACADEMIC EXPANSION
Graduate study, were available in the field of rehabilitation, and students
as well as faculty could now avail themselves of, and contribute to, the
research opportunities of the Department.
A third research group that began work during this period was the
Russell B. Stearns Study. In 1961 Mr. Stearns, a longtime member of the
Northeastern Corporation and Board of Trustees, had been twice the
victim of minor but disconcerting experiences at the hands of unruly
adolescents. A gentle Boston Brahmin type, schooled in the proverbial
virtues of old New England, Mr. Stearns was appalled by what he saw as
"a continuing decay of values among the young," and wondered aloud to
Dr. Knowles if, in fact, his "observation was correct and what if anything
could be done?" Out of this wonder grew the Russell B. Stearns Study,
designed for the express purpose of examining the ethical and social
standards of college youth. The research, financed through the generosity
of Mr. Stearns, began in January 1962 with Dr. Charles W. Havice, Professor
of Sociology and Dean of Chapel, serving as Director. In 1966 Dr. William
J. Bowers, who had gained a national reputation for his research project
on "Student Dishonesty and Its Control in College," was recruited from
Columbia University to become Director of Research of the Study, while
Dr. Havice became the Chairman.
In 1965 the first fruits of the project, a report based on information
gathered through the cooperation of fifty colleges and universities, was
published as a booklet entitled Stepping Stones or Stumbling Blocks by
Joy D. Winkie. A year later a second report followed: Campus Values,
edited by Dr. Havice and based on a survey of over a thousand students
from one hundred colleges, who had responsed to questionnaires dealing
with academic dishonesty, sex, and social ethical issues. Adopted as an
orientation handbook at many colleges and universities, Campus Values
enjoyed wide readership and was subsequently republished in 1968 and
1971. In the early 1970s, following the formation of the College of Criminal
Justice, the Stearns Study was dissolved on grounds that many of the areas
of its concern overlapped those of the new College; subsequently Dr.
Bowers moved to the staff of that College, where he became Director of
its Social Science Research Programs.
In 1973 still a fourth Social Science Institute Study, the Institute for
Chemical Analysis, Application, and Forensic Science, was established at
Northeastern, with Dr. Barry L. Karger, recipient of the Alfred E. Sloan
Fellowship for 1971—73 and well-known professor of Chemical Analysis,
as its Director. Designed to bring together faculty from several of the
University's colleges in an interdisciplinary research environment, its
overall aim was the "development and application of chemical analysis
Research 23 1
and instrumentation to problems of social relevance, with special emphasis
in the area of forensic science."1 '
Although all of the above-cited activities involved departmental fac-
ulty, particularly those in sociology-related fields, they were initially begun
as extra-departmental research activities; this is not to imply, however,
any paucity of research within the social science departments themselves.
One of the most active of these departments was Psychology, which by
1962—63 was well launched into two major projects — one on the sum-
mation of loudness in impaired ears and another on the modification of
the visual threshold under hypnosis. In 1965 the Department received a
$73,000 NSF grant for development in graduate programs, and that same
year new laboratories in the Mugar Life Sciences Building and the United
Realty Complex were provided for research in physiological psychology
(with emphasis on primate research), electroretinography, and psycho-
physiology. With the addition of the doctoral program in psychology in
1966, research received an even greater stimulus, which continued
throughout the period.
With the reopening of the Law School in 1968, a new channel for
social science-oriented research became available. And in 1969 that School
received $31,314 from the National Endowment for the Humanities (NEH)
for research as well as for initiation of formal courses to deal with legal
problems related to population control. In the meantime, the Center for
Continuing Education, which had also initiated earlier research projects
in the sciences, became responsible for introducing "programs for aca-
demic improvement which would have immediate social relevance."12 A
by-product of this effort was the Center's administration of the Upward
Bound Program, which was designed to help disadvantaged students re-
alize their academic potential. Begun in 1968, the Program was supported
by the U.S. Office of Economic Opportunity.
As indicated above, the University's research efforts in the areas of
science and social science were complex and varied. Studies covered a
wide range of subjects. In fact some of these studies, such as rehabilitation,
might as easily have been included under the next category, research in
health sciences. The phenomenal growth in this latter area, however,
seems to justify a separate category for this field even at the risk of some
overlapping and perhaps repetition.
Health Sciences
Between 1959 and 1975, academic programs related to the health
sciences had expanded rapidly at Northeastern. In i960 the University had
offered only a few, generally experimental, courses in the area, largely
232 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
under the aegis of University College or the Office for Adult and Continuing
Education. By 1975, however, health sciences had become a major field
at Northeastern with programs provided in all the basic colleges as well
as in University College, the Center for Continuing Education, and the
Forsyth Dental Center (see Chapter XIII). As a complement and sometimes
as a stimulus to the growth of these programs, there had also sprung up
a series of research projects that had as their objective the exploration
and discovery of material relevant to health problems.
As early as 1962, the departments of Electrical Engineering and Chem-
istry had been involved in a project to study the application of lasers in
medicine, and by 1964 this investigation had burgeoned into an exami-
nation of the biological effects of laser radiation. That same year North-
eastern's ability to handle research projects in health-related fields was
further recognized when the University was awarded a $200,000 grant by
the U.S. Public Health Service to cooperate with Boston State Hospital in
a four-year study of nursing homes as treatment resources for the reha-
bilitation of mental patients.
In spite of these early ventures into health science research, the
faculties in health science fields did not really become the recipients of
any significant research support until 1966 when three substantial grants
were awarded to the College of Pharmacy by the drug industry for ex-
plorations in that field. As if this action triggered the "necessary recog-
nition" of which Carl F. Muckenhoupt had spoken earlier, other grants
rapidly followed, with the College of Pharmacy receiving a consistent
portion throughout the years. In 1966 the Division of Health Sciences was
organized at Northeastern to bring together into one category many of
the programs dealing with health. Although the administration of these
programs remained under the various units that had developed them, the
Division created at least a semblance of a central coordinating structure.
The efficacy of such an organizational pattern was soon established, when
in 1969 Allied Health Professions Educational Improvement awarded the
Division 8106,246 for "research and study in dental hygiene, medical tech-
nology, and physical and respiratory therapy."13 In the meantime, other
health-related projects, such as the investigation of mental patients in
nursing homes and the studies on psychosocial needs of epileptic patients
mentioned above, further added to the roster of health research projects.
Altogether, the amount of research undertaken in the interest of health
science between i960 and 1975 represents an impressive figure and serves
as an appropriate indication of how far the University had advanced in
the development of its capabilities in that area during the period.
Research 233
Business Research
Concurrent with the expansion of research in the fields mentioned
earlier was the development of research in business-related areas. In 1939
Northeastern had become the first private institution in the country to
establish a Bureau of Business Research under its College of Business
Administration. At that time Asa S. Knowles was Dean of the College, and
it was under his direction that the Bureau became responsible for coor-
dinating research efforts in that field and for a University research pub-
lication. Following Dr. Knowles's move to Rhode Island, the Bureau
languished briefly, and it was not until after World War II, when the
growing need for managerial skills placed a new emphasis on the general
field of business, that it was revived, now as the Bureau of Business and
Economic Research.
In 1952 Dr. William Miernyk was appointed Director of the reestab-
lished Bureau, and by 1959 when Dr. Knowles returned to Northeastern,
it was already deeply involved in several research projects dealing par-
ticularly with managerial accounting for small business firms and in a
series of studies on business-related fields. In 1961, to the regret of his
colleagues who had wholeheartedly appreciated his leadership, Dr. Mier-
nyk left Northeastern to respond to the challenge of establishing a totally
new Bureau of Business and Economic Research in Colorado, and Dr. Dean
S. Ammer assumed the role of Acting Director, 1961—62, and full-time
Director, 1962.
During the early 1960s, projects under the Bureau proliferated. Thus,
for example, in 1962—63 the Latin American Division (Alliance for Prog-
ress) of the Agency of International Development gave the Bureau a
$110,000 grant for a two-year economic study. The study, under the di-
rection of Morris A. Horowitz, Chairman of the Economics Department,
called for the gathering of data from Latin America, Europe, Japan, and
India. These data were to serve as the basis for tables and charts that
would assist developing nations in determining their manpower needs and
in training and educating their personnel to meet those needs. Subse-
quently, the project developed into part of the Economics curriculum,
and it then became possible for students to choose a specialty in inter-
national economic development. Shortly after this, the Pan American
Union and the Latin American Division of the Ford Foundation, impressed
by the Department's grasp of this area, made available special fellowships
that would ailow Latin American students to attend Northeastern. Mean-
while the Bureau was developing other projects, including one in 1964 on
Automation in Foundries, and simultaneously continuing the publication
234 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
of a monthly series, Business Topics, designed as a service to companies
involved in cooperative education programs.
In 1966 the Department of Economics moved from the College of
Business Administration to the College of Liberal Arts (see Chapter VIII).
The move presented some problems in the logistics of staffing and ad-
ministering the Bureau, which now found itself caught between two col-
leges, and by the early 1970s the Bureau had all but disappeared. This is
not to suggest, however, that research in the fields of business and/or
economics flagged. Economic studies continued to flourish in their new
home, invigorated especially by the addition of doctoral programs in 1967.
At the same time faculty research productivity in the College of Business
Administration also expanded. In fact, by 1973 both sponsored and indi-
vidually initiated research projects in business had reached an all-time
record. By this date approximately ten members of the full-time Business
faculty were involved in five different sponsored projects for a total fund-
ing of more than $60,000, while roughly ten to fifteen others were working
on unsponsored projects of sufficient import to have warranted publica-
tion or the promise of publication.14
Throughout its history, the Bureau of Business and Economic Re-
search at Northeastern had operated on a much smaller scale than com-
parable organizations in many state universities; nevertheless, it had
proved consistently successful in attracting support from both agencies
of the federal government and private foundations. Even after the Bureau's
demise, investigations in these fields continued unabated. Although at no
time did either Business or Economics command the high percentage of
research money that was allotted in Northeastern's budget to the sciences
and closely allied disciplines, there was never any shortage of either funds
or opportunities for those interested in undertaking projects in these areas.
Research in Cooperative Education
In 1964, under continuing pressure to provide information, consultant
services, and research on the Cooperative Plan of Education, Northeastern
embarked on still a fifth area of research. At that time Dr. Knowles reor-
ganized the Department of Cooperative Education into a Division of Co-
operative Education and a Center for Information and Research. The
function of the latter unit was to "supplement work being carried on by
the National Commission for Cooperative Education and to stimulate and
conduct research in the expansion, development, and improvement of
cooperative education."15
Research 235
In 1967 the Ford Foundation contributed 8375,000 to be matched by
the University for an endowed research professorship in cooperative ed-
ucation, and the following year Dr. James W. Wilson was appointed to this
post. Under Dr. Wilson, the Center assumed its definitive shape and un-
dertook a variety of research activities including both ongoing and special
interest projects. Included among the ongoing projects were an annual
census of the undergraduate cooperative education programs in the United
States and Canada and the publication of an annotated bibliography of
cooperative education literature, the Cooperative Education Information
Clearinghouse Index.
In the category of special projects, the Center began a series of studies
on topical issues directly related to the cooperative experience. By 1969
four of these projects had already been completed. A study of research
in cooperative education served as the basis for a paper delivered at the
American Society for Engineering Education at Pennsylvania State Uni-
versity. The results of the remaining projects on student-coordinator
relationships, compensation to cooperative students, and a survey of co-
operative programs — the latter two conducted on behalf of the Cooper-
ative Education Association and the Cooperative Education Division of
the American Society for Engineering Education — were subsequently pub-
lished in the Journal of Cooperative Education. By 1975 the results of
other studies dealing with such problems as ( 1 ) the impact of the coop-
erative experiences on student attitudes, values, and interests, (2) the
career development of "co-op" and non-"co-op" alumni, (3) a survey and
analysis of the physically handicapped student participating in cooperative
education, and (4) institutional factors that contribute to or impede the
development of a viable cooperative program, had resulted in twenty-six
other publications, while easily another half dozen were in the process
of completion.
In addition to its research activities, the Center staff also provided
data on the structure and characteristics of known cooperative education
programs in the United States and Canada, assistance in areas of educational
research methods, evaluation of cooperative education programs, and a
telephone advisory service to make referrals, answer questions, and offer
other information. During the same period, although not under the aegis
of the Center, Dr. Knowles also completed his own editorial work on a
Handbook of Cooperative Education (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1971) —
an undertaking that brought into one volume the work of experts in the
various areas relevant to cooperative education. The newest addition to
236 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
Northeastern's research efforts thus rapidly proved to be particularly fruit-
ful, filling a very real gap in the general knowledge of educational processes
in the country.
Other Areas
Although this chapter indicates some of the major areas of research
conducted at Northeastern between 1959 and 1975, it in no way takes into
account either all or, in fact, most of the important projects that were
undertaken in those years. A survey conducted in 1978 showed that by
this time research and publication had become as important an element
in determining faculty advancement and tenure as it was at every other
major university. The bibliography of Northeastern's staff thus covers not
only additional investigations in the areas mentioned above but seminal
works in education, history, law and law enforcement, nursing, literature,
recreation, political science, and therapy. A perfect example of the range
and scope of such research was a project undertaken by President Knowles
himself in 1973. The project, which involved a massive investigation of
higher education as it existed throughout the world, was published as a
ten-volume International Encyclopedia of Higher Education by Jossey-
Bass in 1977. The first such work of its kind, it brought together basic
information on postsecondary education in countries around the world
on academic disciplines and fields of study, and on major problems con-
fronting universities and colleges.
The effect of the phenomenal growth in research at Northeastern
between 1959 and 1975 — in the number of projects and the monies in-
volved— cannot be overestimated. In physical terms alone research helped
to change the face of the University. The process of this transformation
began as early as i960 when a $42,000 grant from the Atomic Energy
Commission allowed the University to establish its first nuclear reactor
facilities (see Chapter III). From this point on, the construction of research
facilities hardly ever stopped.
In 1963 the Mugar Life Sciences Building was completed with space
for research laboratories in pharmacy, psychology, and chemical engi-
neering. In 1965, the new Mary Gass Robinson Hall opened with labora-
tories for biology research. That same year a $900,000 grant, awarded to
Northeastern by the National Science Foundation, made possible the con-
struction of a physics and electrical engineering research building, the
Research i^-j
first building on campus devoted wholly to research. It was dedicated in
1967 as the Charles A. Dana Research Center.
In 1967 the Cummings Greenhouse, adjacent to the suburban campus
in Burlington, was acquired for botanical research. In 1968 Edward Hurtig
Hall was completed with research facilities available for chemical research.
In 1969 the David F. and Edna Edwards Marine Science Institute, the only
such marine laboratory owned by a private institution in the country, was
officially dedicated in Nahant, although its facilities had been in operation
for several years. In 1973 the Amelia Peabody Health Professions Center,
which would encompass health service research facilities, was begun. And
this litany of acquisitions and construction does not even take into account
the multimillion-dollar refurbishing that went on, particularly in the United
Realty Building, to accommodate research projects. Most of these projects
were at least partially financed through government grants and contracts,
although considerable funding also came from foundations and private
individuals. In any instance, they reflect the importance that the outside
world attributed to Northeastern's research efforts.
Far more profound, however, than any physical changes was the effect
that scholarly investigations had on the overall academic environment of
Northeastern, both in terms of programs and personnel. Hand in hand
with research went the development of the doctoral programs (see Chap-
ter IX). Furthermore, many of the research projects described above
served to generate new programs within the colleges, such as the De-
partment of Rehabilitation and Special Education in the College of Edu-
cation, which had as its source the work initiated by Dr. Reuben J. Margolin
and Dr. George J. Goldin.
No less real was the effect that research had on the faculty. In 1959
there was no released time for scholarly investigation, no sabbatical pro-
grams, and less than 27 percent of the permanent full-time teaching faculty,
roughly 180 persons, held the Ph.D. By 1961 the first research contracts,
in keeping with the U.S. norm for research professors and allowing for
released time, had been negotiated. By 1962 a sabbatical leave policy that
encouraged faculty members to develop their professional skills had been
instituted, and by 1975 almost two-thirds of the full-time faculty, now
approximately 600, held a terminal degree. Much of this change had been
the direct result of Northeastern's desire to attract young professionals
interested in the development of their own professional skills as well as
teaching.
In effect, the expansion of physical facilities, including the number
and quality of library holdings as well as the increase in research faculty,
had changed the character of Northeastern. While the Institution had
238 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
always been dedicated to the transmission of knowledge, now it also had
the opportunity to explore and push back the frontiers of knowledge. As
a consequence, the position that Northeastern held, not only vis-a-vis other
higher education institutions but also business, industry, and the federal
government, was subtly altered. With the assumption of major research
grants and contracts, Northeastern achieved a new image — that of a major
and mature institution whose role on the educational scene could no
longer be considered casually.
While the development of Northeastern's research capabilities brought
the Institution kudos, it also inevitably brought new problems. Only the
foresight of Dr. Knowles, Dr. White, and those members of the staff most
directly concerned with the formulation of research policies served to
offset many of these problems before they could become major issues.
Thus the decision to focus on basic rather than applied research, which
was historically conditioned by Northeastern's commitment to under-
graduate teaching, was to render irrelevant to Northeastern many of the
late 1960s student protests that the universities were acting in complicity
with government and industry in the design of war machinery.16 Similarly,
the decision in the mid-1960s to cut back, and subsequently cut out,
classified contracts made the charge of complicity even more remote. As
a result, Northeastern was spared many of the demonstrations that were
to wrack similar institutions at the height of the antiwar fever, and it was
entirely spared those fiery invasions into private offices and facilities that
specifically focused on purging the university of projects that the students
felt contributed to the continuation of the war.
An even thornier problem, however, than classified versus unclassi-
fied, than applied versus basic research, was the problem of how great a
total commitment to research the University wanted to make. At the
beginning of the decade the question was moot — at this stage the main
concern was simply initiating research. By the end of the decade, however,
the size of commitment had become a real issue. Across the river, Harvard,
at the height of government subsidies and pressure for research, was
allocating 30 percent of its budget to research endeavors, and this was
considered conservative in relation to what similar institutions were ac-
cording to the same pursuits.17 By the late 1960s, however, Northeastern
was already considering a cap on its own research expenditures, which
hovered somewhere in the area of 5 to 9 percent of the total budget.
The reasons informing the University's reluctance to simply continue
expansion ad infinitum were essentially both economic and prudential.
Although many laymen automatically assume that sponsored grants and
contracts constitute so much gravy for the universities, the fact is that
Research 239
while they may meet all the direct expenses of a given project, the portion
allotted to overhead may cover as little as 50 percent of the actual
overhead cost. In other words, a university must be prepared to make up
the difference and to sustain running expenses. Customarily these costs
involve heating, lighting, clerical equipment, and extra work for the per-
sonnel office, the budgeting office, the payroll office — particularly if the
project is large. Very often a research project may involve totally new or
at least extensively refurbished space.
During the 1960s when the University was expanding, all of these
problems, and particularly those relating to facilities, could be subsumed
into the total problem of expansion. The space to accommodate labora-
tories and offices for research projects was thus automatically included
in the overall design of new buildings, and expense was justified on the
grounds that the new facilities relieved space in other buildings sorely
needed for growing undergraduate programs.18
In addition, such highly sophisticated accommodations as steel-
framed sound and control rooms for research and graduate training in
psycho-acoustics and audiology, air-conditioned and weather-controlled
rooms for animal (particularly primate) experiments, and shielded rooms
for nuclear and electrical engineering projects were all a part of the nec-
essary resources of a modern fully equipped university. Northeastern, of
course, welcomed sponsored research projects that would contribute,
even minimally, to the cost of their acquisition.
By the end of the 1960s, however, the University had largely com-
pleted its immediate expansion aims, at least in terms of academic build-
ings and support staff. Thus any project that entailed extensive overhead
would automatically put new strains on the budget and possibly divert
funds from other high priority needs. This at least was the view of Dr.
Arthur Fitzgerald, Dean of Faculty, who was responsible in the late 1960s
for the overall supervision of academic and research programs. Dean Fitz-
gerald's view was by no means unanimously shared by all members of the
faculty and gave rise to some heated arguments in the Faculty Senate,
which was the forum for such discussion. Nevertheless, his point that all
those currently interested in pursuing projects could be accommodated
under a 5 to 9 percent expenditure and that any further expansion would
inevitably be reflected in increased tuition gave pause even to those most
dedicated to the principle of ever-increasing research growth.
A further argument, and in a sense the one that tipped the scale in
favor of limitations, was Dr. Knowles's perception of the national economic
situation. That government subsidies could not endure forever and that
a university with a relatively small endowment might easily find itself
240 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
overcommitted both in terms of faculty and facilities were such outside
funds to disappear, figured strongly in his own support of placing limi-
tations on Northeastern's research expansion. And by the end of the 1960s,
although such a policy was an anomaly in a world where expansion was
still a popular byword, Northeastern determined to place limits on re-
search expenditure. Subsequent events of the 1970s proved that the policy
had been both economically and prudentially sound. Thus, while North-
eastern deliberately chose not to commit itself to research on quite the
grand scale that characterized the commitment of some of its sister in-
stitutions, it also chose during this period to commit itself to research, at
least to the degree where its endeavors could be seen as competitive in
certain areas — science, social and health sciences, business — and unique
in one area, research in cooperative education. As a result, by 1975 North-
eastern had achieved a position of some eminence in the world of research
and had well earned "recognition of its capabilities" of which Dr. Muck-
enhoupt had so glowingly spoken only a dozen years before.
At the same time as Northeastern began to expand its degree granting
programs and its research capabilities to meet the accelerating demands
of the 1960s, it also began to expand its nondegree adult, part-time
education programs. Northeastern, of course, had always been committed
to providing supplementary education to persons less concerned with
the accumulation of academic credentials than with the acquisition of
new skills in areas in which they were already employed or wished to be
employed. Some of the Institution's earliest schools — the 1903 Automobile
School, the School of Advertising, the School of Applied Electricity and
Steam, even the 1907 School of Commerce and Finance — had been de-
signed with just this commitment in mind. It was not until after World
War II, however, when the needs of an increasingly complex industrial,
technological, managerial society began to proliferate, that Northeastern
started to rethink its noncredit adult education programs, and it was not
until i960 that groundwork was laid for continuing education to become
one of the most prominent features of the new University.
The immediate antecedent to what would develop in the 1960s into
Northeastern's Center for Continuing Education was the Bureau of Busi-
241
242 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
ness and Industrial Training, which was established at the University in
1954 and which in the sophistication and comprehensiveness of its offer-
ings, as well as in its philosophical orientation, supplied the model on
which the later Center was to be built.
The Bureau itself could trace its roots to the Engineering, Science,
and Management War Training (ESMWT) program introduced on the na-
tional scene in October 1940, as the Engineering Defense Training Pro-
gram. At that time Congress, eager to counter a continuing shortage of
engineers with specialized training in fields essential to national defense,
had authorized a system of short, intensive college-level courses to be
given by engineering schools throughout the country. Northeastern's
courses began January 1941, and were of two types: ( 1 ) part-time evening
courses of a refresher or upgrading nature intended for men with some
engineering training to make them more useful in the defense effort, and
(2) full-time day courses of a preemployment nature designed to train
additional men to work in defense industries. So successful was Engi-
neering Defense Training that in July 1941 Congress appropriated addi-
tional funds for expanding the program, which now came to include
courses in liberal arts and business management and was rechristened
Engineering, Science, and Management War Training.
In 1945 ESMWT was terminated at the national level. Northeastern,
however, acutely aware of the appropriateness of this type of education
to the fulfillment of its own commitments, determined to continue at least
the essence of the program. Thus the Evening Division began to offer
certain intensive and highly specialized college-level courses that would
aid in training persons employed in local business and industry to deal
with specific company and/or professional problems. In 1954 these courses
were organized under the jurisdiction of the Bureau of Business and In-
dustrial Training, which provided such nondegree programs not only on
campus but within companies themselves. During the postwar period, the
Division also offered a series of certificate, or diploma-granting, institutes
and sponsored special forums. Thus the Labor Relations Institute opened
in 1945 to promote "harmonious understanding of the principles of labor
and industrial management," and in 1953 a Federal and a State Tax Forum,
designed as a service to tax practitioners of New England and cosponsored
by public accounting associations, went into operation. By 1958, when Dr.
Knowles returned to Northeastern, the University's commitment to non-
degree, part-time programs for professional adults was already well known.
Dr. Knowles was, of course, thoroughly familiar with this kind of
education. Between 1942 and 1946, as Director of General College Exten-
sion at the University of Rhode Island, he had managed that institution's
Continuing Education 243
ESMWT, shaping it into one of the foremost programs in the New England
area. (Paradoxically, Rhode Islands chief competitor was Northeastern's
own ESMWT, under the direction of Dr. Alhert E. Everett. ) Furthermore,
as Professor of Industrial Administration at the University of Rhode Island,
Dr. Knowles had not only had extensive experience with lahor relations
and tax programs hut had also developed a wide network of acquaintances
in those areas. He was, thus, hoth aware of and sympathetic to the kind
of advanced professional training that was being offered at Northeastern;
perhaps even more important, he was aware of and sensitive to the po-
tential that part-time, supplementary, business-industrial-oriented pro-
grams could have in the overall development of an urban university. As
a consequence, one of his first acts as President of Northeastern was to
establish an Office of Adult and Continuing Education, which would allow
more room for the expansion and coordination of such programs.
Opened in September i960, the new Office of Adult and Continuing
Education faced two major problems: the acquisition of more space and
the definition of its role. The first of these problems was, of course, rel-
atively mechanical, but that made it no less important to the overall de-
velopment of any substantive program.
As far back as 1955, University officials had been concerned about
finding room to house the office, workshops, and seminars of its noncredit
programs. A draft development plan of 1958 acknowledges the need for
space for continuing education programs, and one of the major financial
allotments of that plan was for just such a purpose. By i960, however,
nothing had yet been done, although the problem had grown increasingly
acute. In June of that year Dr. Everett, writing to Dr. Knowles and Dr.
White, remarked somewhat wistfully that other universities "are going all
out to compete with us in the area of Special Programs. They are acquiring
a new property that will have seminar rooms to be used entirely for special
programs. . . . Maybe the time is not too distant when we will be
able to see the advisability of acquiring some residential property."1 Thus,
when in the winter of 1960-61 the Pierce mansion in suburban Weston
suddenly became available for purchase, the event could not have been
more fortuitous.
The mansion with its large living, dining, and conference room areas
and its quiet, "away from the job" rural environment was an ideal setting
for Northeastern's purposes. It had ample parking space and was accessible
to Route 128 — the main artery of Boston's business/industrial complex.
244 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
By 1961-62 the property had been acquired largely to accommodate
Northeastern's continuing education programs. (See Chapter HI.) Three
years later, in 1964, the Burlington campus — also in easy access to Route
128 — was added to Northeastern's holding for very much the same reason.
At the same time, the University began to provide courses in local high
schools for the convenience of other adult professional students.
But if Northeastern's programs could not have grown without room,
room alone could not have assured their viability, and a far more sub-
stantive problem to face the i960 Office of Adult and Continuing Education
was the definition of its goals and direction. On October 2, 1961, a paper
entitled "Proposed Definition of Responsibilities, Center for Continuing
Education" came to grips for the first time with this issue.2 The paper,
prepared by Dr. Everett in consultation with Dr. Knowles and members
of the staff most concerned with continuing education, was revised the
following year. The year after it was revised again. The revisions, however,
are of less import than what the paper finally accomplished — the clear
articulation of the role that Continuing Education was to assume at the
University.
Essentially, this role, which was based on the role traditionally as-
sumed by the Bureau of Business and Industrial Training, was to act as
purveyor of adult, noncredit, short-term programs that would satisfy the
educational needs of the community in areas and at levels that were not
being met by existing educational institutions and agencies. The respon-
sibilities of the Center, as envisioned in the proposal, would encompass
two major duties: ( 1 ) maintaining a close liaison with the community and
with units of the University to discover new needs for short-term, non-
credit programs; and (2) designing, developing, and operating such pro-
grams. Implicit in the latter responsibility was the securing of part-time
personnel to conduct courses, for it was determined from the beginning
that in the interest of authenticity practical programs should be conducted
whenever possible by practitioners in the field under consideration, and
that in the interest of flexibility full-time staff should be kept minimal.
Further, it would be the responsibility of the Center to determine suitable
times and places to conduct courses, for as the experience of the Bureau
had demonstrated, convenience was a major factor in the success of short-
term courses.
The early proposal also limned out three major divisions into which
Continuing Education programs would fall: the Bureau of Business and
Industrial Training, Special Programs in Cooperation with Civic Groups,
and Special Programs in Cooperation with Professional and Trade Groups.
Shortly after, still a fourth division was added — State-of-the-Arts. The term,
Continuing Education 245
coined at Northeastern and destined to become part of the common
parlance of educators, referred to programs specifically formulated to
update and stretch the competence of engineers and scientists whose
disciplines, perhaps more than any others, were subject to rapid change.
In the course of time these categories were to be modified, and for
todays purposes a more representative grouping of subjects offered under
the purview of continuing education is expressed by the list compiled by
Professor Israel Katz of Northeastern and published in The Handbook of
College and University Administration, edited by Dr. Knowles.3 This list
makes the following divisions: Courses and Workshops for Employees of
Business and Industry; Courses for Scientific Personnel; Workshops in
Community and Social Services; Courses for Adult Women; Courses for
Health-Care Workers; and Programs for Self-Employed Specialists. Never-
theless, the Proposal of 1961 and 1962, by defining responsibilities and
categorizing subject matter, served to clarify the meaning of the term
"continuing education," which had been previously used at Northeastern,
both generically to suggest all adult education and specifically to indicate
programs not otherwise covered by the Bureau, University College, or
other Special Programs. Henceforth Continuing Education would be
understood as referring exclusively to noncredit programs that were di-
rected toward the immediate developmental needs of a largely professional
and adult constituency. Underscoring this clarification in terminology was
the removal of responsibility for all other areas from the Office of Adult
and Continuing Education and subsequent deletion of the word "adult"
from the title of the office.
In 1963 the Proposed Plan for a Center for Continuing Education
became a reality. The Office of Continuing Education became the Center
for Continuing Education, a name reflecting the new centrality of purpose,
and for the next ten years, until changing circumstances mandated still
another reorganization, this essentially autonomous Center was to prove
one of the most exciting and innovative units at the growing University.
3
It would be difficult to overestimate the influence that the Center for
Continuing Education had on the reputation, the role, and the general
educational effectiveness of Northeastern, particularly in the expansion
years of the 1960s. Dozens of industries, professional organizations, busi-
nesses, and community agencies were to cooperate in and be touched by
the hundreds of programs that were conducted under its aegis, while
thousands of students, instructors, and resource persons participated in
246 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
its workshops, seminars, and conferences. Previously untapped consti-
tuencies were introduced or reintroduced to the learning process through
its upgrading and preemployment programs. Employed professionals were
acquainted with new skills or given the opportunity to update old ones
through its professional business and state-of-the-art programs. Commu-
nity leaders were provided with the chance to discuss emerging social
problems with their peers in seminar and conference environments, and
recent graduates were given the opportunity to transform theoretical skills
acquired in college into the practical skills needed for actual employment
through such programs as Project GAP initiated in 1967. (GAP here literally
refers to filling the gap between theoretical and practical education.)
In the face of such richness, it is almost impossible for the historian,
who is limited by space, to touch on even one-tenth of what occurred
during these years. Nevertheless the following sections should at least
suggest the range and general significance of these programs.
Courses for Business and Industrial Personnel
The Bureau of Business and Industrial Training had been Northeast-
ern's first major Continuing Education program, and it is not surprising
that when the University began to expand its adult part-time noncredit
offerings, its first efforts would be in the general direction of business. As
indicated above, the Bureau continued its operations under the new Office
and provided a variety of programs tailored to the needs of specific busi-
nesses and industries. Under the direction of Professor Herman V. LaMark,
courses designed to upgrade the skills of management, supervisory, and
operating personnel of a given company were conducted, usually within
the plant. By 1964 Northeastern was conducting seventy such in-service
programs for twenty-seven different companies, and the following year
had contracted with twenty-one new companies for similar services.
At the same time, the University also began to encourage other pro-
grams directed more toward the educational needs of types of businesses
than toward the needs of specific corporations. These were initially de-
veloped as Special Programs in Cooperation with Professional and Trade
Groups under the direction of Dean Gurth I. Abercrombie. They were
eventually incorporated into a Department of Business Administration
within the Center. In either guise, the curricula, designed in conjunction
with special interest organizations, were usually of an advanced profes-
sional nature and appealed to middle-level management groups who met
in conference, seminar, and workshop situations to exchange ideas and
acquire new methods of coping with managerial problems.
The range of these programs as they were introduced between i960
Continuing Education 247
and 1975 indicates, perhaps more than any other single factor, the deter-
mination of Northeasterns Continuing Education leaders to meet com-
mitments to the business and industrial community of the area. Thus, for
example, in i960 the Office of Adult and Continuing Education initiated
a Nursing Home Administration Program — the first such program in the
area geared explicitly to managerial personnel in health care, a major New
England industry. By 1962 this program, under the direction of Professors
Francis L. Hurwitz and Reuben J. Margolin, had already served over two
hundred persons in twelve different seminars and workshops, scheduled
not only in Boston but throughout New England.
In 1965 when the passage of Medicare wrought dramatic changes in
the health professions, Northeastern quickly adapted. It dropped its in-
field seminars in favor of intensive residential workshops and adjusted
course content particularly to alert administrators to the demands of the
new legislation. Throughout the 1960s, Nursing Home Administration con-
tinued as one of the major business-industry— oriented programs of the
Center, providing courses in such subjects as financial management, cre-
ative management, and sensitivity training for dynamic leadership of long-
term nursing facilities. And it was not until the 1970s, by which time many
of the program offerings had been incorporated into the College of Nurs-
ing, that Nursing Home Administration was disbanded.
Another major aspect of New England's business-industry world was
the plethora of small businesses that dotted the area. In i960 Dr. Everett,
in conjunction with the New England office of the federal Small Business
Administration, began to explore the possibility of college-level courses
designed to upgrade and update the skills of managerial personnel in this
field. As a consequence, the Small Business Institute was founded in 1961.
Offering a series of seminars and workshops that covered a variety of
subjects such as production management, marketing management, finan-
cial management, leadership development and planning for business
growth, the Institute quickly developed a large following and within five
years had already enrolled over 1,300 individuals from over 300 companies.
In 1970 the name was changed to the Small Business Forum under which
name it continued into the 1980s.
Unfortunately space precludes the possibility of naming all of the
institutes, forums, and workshops and all of the businesses and industries
with which Northeastern became involved during the 1960s and 1970s.
Because the very concept of continuing education comprehends the no-
tion that programs should provide material for the immediate solution of
perplexing problems, subject matter was frequently changed and phased
in and phased out in accordance with fluctuating demands. Some programs,
248 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
however, either because they ran for several years, or because they sug-
gested the variety of the Center's offerings, cannot be overlooked. Thus
the Labor Relations Forum (an outgrowth of the earlier Institute), the
Federal and State Tax forums, and CPA review programs, all of which were
given annually over an extended period of time and commanded a large
constituency, must be mentioned. Other shorter-lived experimental pro-
grams, designed to satisfy particular needs at particular times ought also
to be noted as, again, they indicate the range and flexibility of North-
eastern's Continuing Education during this period. Such programs include
those founded at the request of specific professional associations — for
example, the Association of Purchasing Agents, the Electrical Council of
New England, the Savings Bank Life Council, the Association of Financial
Analysts, the System Products Association, the Society of Fluid Power
Engineers, and the Association of Certified Public Accountants.
Two other programs also deserve mention, not only because they
became staples of Continuing Education but also because they served as
conduits for courses later introduced into University College. They are the
Chefs Institute, later renamed the Food Service Industry courses, which
came to Northeastern from MIT in the early 1970s, and the Urban Trans-
portation Management Institute, established in conjunction with the U.S.
Department of Transportation in 1969. The Chefs Institute, designed with
the cooperation of Boston hotels, restaurants, and food service organiza-
tions, culled its professional faculty from these areas and developed a
highly successful way to upgrade and expand the skills of persons em-
ployed by the industry. Because of the program's success, University Col-
lege was encouraged to introduce a hotel administration program of study
into its curricula; at the same time serious consideration was given to the
development of a College of Hotel Administration.
The second program, the Urban Transportation Management Institute,
reflected the growing concern of the federal government to come to grips
with mass transportation in and out of the nation's urban centers. The
program, which appealed to top- and middle-level management in the
industry proved such a success that many of its courses were also incor-
porated into University College as degree-granting curriculum. And again,
serious thought was given to the possibility of developing a College of
Transportation — an idea that, as much as anything, fell victim to the time
in which it was proposed. (See Chapter XVIII.)
As stated above, the range and variety of the Center's business-in-
dustry-oriented programs are too vast to allow complete coverage. Some
Continuing Education 249
indication of their scope and reception, however, can he surmised from
the following excerpts culled at random from the Continuing Education
files:
Two years ago, Mr. Peter Dudley of the Department of Health, Edu-
cation, and Science, London, England, came to the United States to
visit five colleges and observe Continuing Education in Business Pro-
grams. As a result of this survey, Northeastern University's business
programs were selected the leading program over the other four
universities.
[Malcolm Campbell to Israel Katz, Dec. 21, 1968)
... an Educational Committee from the Veterans' Administration
Hospital . . . I reviewed] . . . our business training programs to de-
termine whether these programs would provide an appropriately re-
alistic internship experience for industrial psychiatrists in training.
The Center's business programs were approved. . . . Northeastern
is the first university in the nation qualified to participate for intern-
ship training of industrial psychiatrists.
[Malcolm Campbell to Israel Katz, Jan. 15, 1969]
MIT's Urban Transportation Laboratory has asked Northeastern to sub-
mit a proposal for an Urban Transportation Manager Training Program
based on what they have heard about our recent seminar.
[Israel Katz to Asa Knowles, June 17, 19694]
Courses for Health Care Personnel
If business-industry programs were one of the major concerns of
Northeastern's Center for Continuing Education during the 1960s and
1970s, they were by no means the only concern. In fact, no sooner had
the Office of Adult and Continuing Education been established than Dr.
Everett set to work to expand its offering into such professional areas as
engineering and applied sciences and paraprofessional areas such as the
allied-health professions. One of the first programs developed in this di-
rection was in the field of paramedical training. As previously mentioned,
the health care industry was a major factor in Boston's economy and
Continuing Education's development of an X-Ray Technology Program in
cooperation with the New England Roentgen Ray Society and the Mas-
sachusetts Society of X-Ray Technologists perfectly reflects the Univer-
sity's commitment to supply programs demanded by the community.
X-Ray Technology, later renamed Radiological Technology, repre-
sented Northeastern's first Continuing Education program explicitly de-
250 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
signed to train health care personnel in skills involved directly with patient
care. The highly structured curricula, which comprised a basic course and
an advanced course, each covering 120 hours of classroom training and
180 to 200 hours of hospital clinical instruction, prepared students to take
the registered technicians examination for licensure. Within short order
Radiological Technology, which had affiliations with fifty-one major hos-
pitals in Massachusetts, came to be considered one of the best programs
of its kind in the nation and rapidly achieved accreditation by the Com-
mittee on Education of the American Medical Association. In 1962 the
Office of Continuing Education introduced a second paramedical curric-
ulum, the Dental Assistants Program, conducted in affiliation with Tufts
University School of Dentistry and supported by the Federal Manpower
Development Training Act. The forty-week, full-time day program pre-
pared students for the certification examination of the Certifying Board
of the American Dental Association and was soon accredited by the Coun-
cil on Education of the American Dental Society. In 1964 still a third
paramedical program was introduced, the Medical Laboratory Assistants
program. This fifteen-month, full-time curriculum, conducted in cooper-
ation with twenty-seven hospitals, prepared students to take the certificate
examinations conducted by the Board of Certified Laboratory Assistants.
These three curricula constituted the main corps of the Continuing
Education's paramedical programs and were overwhelmingly well re-
ceived. Indeed, a 1970 Cost Revenue Examination of the Center reveals
that they were not only the major net income producers but, when al-
lowances were made for overhead and general costs, were also seen to
be the major source of the net income of the Center.5 Their success
undoubtedly contributed to the Office of Economic Opportunity's choos-
ing Northeastern University as the institution to conduct its 1971 eighteen-
month pilot program for the education of ex-medical corpsmen to become
physicians assistants.
Still another health care program that was developed under the aegis
of the Center was a Pediatric Nurse Practitioner's Program. Initially the
program incurred losses as Dean Katz, in conjunction with staff from the
College of Nursing, undertook the necessary preliminaries that would
bring it to a point where federal monies might be forthcoming. Effort,
however, was rewarded and the first grant for $489,867 was allotted for
the years 1972 through 1975. (See Chapter VIII.)
Courses for Engineering and Applied Sciences Personnel
Although the development of the health care programs was a signif-
icant step in broadening the scope of Continuing Education beyond busi-
Continuing Education 251
ness, the expansion of such education into the professional areas of applied
sciences and engineering in September of 1963 was perhaps even more
significant. In that year Professor Israel Katz, a graduate of Northeastern,
came to the University from General Electric in Ithaca, New York, for the
express purpose of conducting advanced-level noncredit engineering pro-
grams. These were based on the premise that with "the pace of techno-
logical advance and the proliferation of knowledge . . . it is difficult for
many engineers and applied scientists to remain current without com-
mitment to a measure of formal continuing education that supplements
and stimulates learning on the job."6 Both in the level of sophistication
and methodology these programs were to have a profound effect on the
offerings of the Center and were to set a pattern for similar programs at
several educational institutions across the nation.
In general, although there was variation in accordance with the ca-
pabilities of the students, the expanded engineering and applied sciences
courses were offered at the graduate level in three different formats —
State-ofthe-Art, In-Plant Programs, and Conference and Special Programs.
State-of-the-Art. Of the three types of programs, State-ofthe-Art
Engineering, begun in 1963, was probably the most important to the overall
development of Continuing Education. Specifically designed to help
professionals keep abreast of rapidly changing technology in their fields,
the program offered courses once a week in two- or three-hour sessions
for six to twenty weeks and fell into a variety of subject areas including
optics; materials science; computer and computational sciences; electrical,
mechanical and industrial engineering; biomedical sciences; environmen-
tal engineering, and so forth. In the first year, 20 such courses were pro-
vided for 250 students; by 1974, 150 courses were serving approximately
1,200 students annually.
The guiding principle shaping the presentation of these courses was
conceived by Professor Katz. In brief, he felt that at this level the best
teaching/learning environment was one in which there was a free ex-
change of new knowledge among program participants who came to the
course with a body of expertise to share. As a result, instructors were,
more often than not, professional practitioners rather than academics.
Their function was to keep discourse focused, to act as catalysts for heated
discussion, and to clarify controversial issues. Students were also profes-
sionals, the majority of whom already held advanced degrees.
The effect that this kind of high-level brainstorming program had on
the character of Northeastern's Continuing Education was considerable.
Not only did it add immeasurably to the University's prestige — courses
such as those in Electron Microscopy, introduced in 1964 as an intensive
252 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
two-week residential program, were without peer in the nation — it also
affected the very idea of Continuing Education, which could now be seen
to comprehend some of the most advanced educational programs as well
as some of the most practical. In addition, the teaching/learning style of
State-of-the-Art Engineering also affected the style of other Center de-
partments, which found the free-exchange-of-information approach to be
more appropriate to adult learning than the more traditional instructor/
passive student approach.
In-Plant Programs. As well as State-of-the-Art courses, the Engi-
neering and Applied Science department of the Center also provided a
variety of In-Plant Programs, very much like those offered by the Bureau
of Business and Industrial Training. When one or more nearby industrial
organizations wished to have a group of its people develop unique skills
or gain specific know-how, a team of regular University faculty would
drive as far as one hundred miles to give a series of courses during working
hours. Generally, these company-sponsored courses dealt with skills or
specialized knowledge immediately related to the company's product or
to a proposal-writing effort.
Special Engineering and Applied Sciences Programs. Still a
third type of offering in this professional area was the Special Programs.
Of these, probably the most outstanding was Project GAP, initiated in
1967 under Northeastern's first special Merit Grant from the Office of State
Technical Services, United States Department of Commerce, as a pilot
program for the nation. The program, which was designed to bridge the
gap between the increasingly theoretical, liberal undergraduate prepara-
tion in engineering and the practical know-how required to become pro-
ductive in a specific job, added still another dimension to the functions
of Continuing Education.
So successful were the Engineering and Applied Science programs at
all levels that, for many, the Center came to be identified with them. Such
an identification, however, says more about the observer than the actual
work of the Center, which, at this time, was expanding in still another
area.
Community Service-Oriented Programs
From its inception, Northeastern's Office of Adult and Continuing
Education, like other units of the University, had been committed to the
idea of providing services to the community. Certainly any and all of the
above-cited programs can be understood in this light. There were, how-
ever, other programs, which either because of their subject matter or the
constituency they reached, were more explicitly directed toward social
Continuing Education 253
ends. Just such programs were those for women that began to develop in
the early 1960s for the express purpose of reintroducing a large segment
of the population into the educational mainstream.
Women's Programs. In April i960, Dr. Knowles, addressing the
Commission on the Education of Women of the American Council on
Education, remarked: "There is a growing awareness that this nation and
the society as a whole are seriously in need of the full potential of the
brainpower available in both sexes." That Dr. Everett shared this awareness
was manifest in a memorandum addressed to Dr. Knowles in December
of the same year: "Thank you for forwarding to me a copy of Dr. Raush-
enbush's recent letter to you about the big field of Education for Women.
As you know I have been aware of this need for many years, and have
taken positive steps in this direction. ... In my general thinking it ap-
peared to be advisable to open up this area through certain organized
groups such as the National Secretaries Association."7 Thus by 1961, long
before the Women's Movement had become a popular byword, the Office
of Adult and Continuing Education had already embarked on programs
that would in Dr. Everett's words develop "an area of education in which
there is considerable potential."
Credit for the development of these programs belongs, of course,
with many different people, but in the interests of space only a few of the
key persons can be identified here. In the speech cited above, Dr. Knowles
had given voice to the problem and the need: "Most young people have
not been informed that the role of the homemaker can well be combined
with other creative endeavors and responsibilities. . . . Many more edu-
cated women are needed as leaders in secondary education and colleges
and for positions in government."8 Dr. Albert E. Everett, by creating a
structure whereby courses could be offered at hours when children were
in school and at locations convenient to suburban homemakers, made the
"combination" possible.
Members of the Adult and Continuing Education staff were all en-
joined "to explore and develop educational programs of particular interest
to women."9 Ideas were coordinated by Ethel Beall, the first Director of
Adult and Continuing Education for Women at Northeastern; Virginia Bul-
lard, who assumed the post of directing such programs on the Suburban
Campus in September 1963; and later, Dr. James Bryant, who had come
to the Center as Director of the Department of Applied Behavioral and
Social Science in 1966 and became a counselor for women's programs.
The staff designed a series of courses to answer the needs of nine different
types of students at different levels of educational achievement. Accord-
ingly, graduates, freshmen, transfers, teacher certification candidates, and
254 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
community and volunteer workers as well as the wives of scientists and
engineers generally were encouraged to enroll in daytime credit courses
conducted on the suburban campuses under the aegis of University Col-
lege, or of a particular graduate school. Women who were primarily con-
cerned with personal enrichment or with reviewing and updating their
college majors were encouraged to enroll in continuing education non-
credit programs.
Both types of courses, which covered such subject areas as current
political issues, electronic data processing, origins of Western art, and
review of freshmen and sophomore mathematics, attracted a wide and
loyal constituency. So successful were they in achieving their initial ends —
that is, reintroducing women into the educational mainstream — that by
the end of the 1960s most of the programs were no longer needed. By
1970, much of the feminine hesitation to continue education that had
characterized the early 1960s had been so well overcome that women
constituted a major portion of the regular students in many of the basic
colleges and in University College. In addition, fewer and fewer women
were graduating into an exclusively homemaking role and, consequently,
personal enrichment and review courses began to lose ground to more
asexual professional courses. As a result, offerings especially tailored for
women became as much of an anomaly in the early 1970s as they had been
in the early 1960s, although for exactly opposite reasons. Nevertheless, so
loyal a constituency had grown up around these "women's programs" that
when Northeastern decided to disband them there was such a fierce outcry
that one administration member is reputed to have mumbled caustically,
if not rather chauvinistically: "Hell hath no fury like a woman who even
thinks she's being scorned."
Community Service Personnel Programs. While the women's
programs can be understood as community-oriented endeavors to the
extent that they were designed to tap a new resource in the community,
other programs, more closely tied to social welfare, were also being de-
veloped. In 1969, Dr. Israel Katz, who had become the Dean of the Center
at the retirement of Dr. Everett in 1967, summarized the situation:
While the main thrust of the Center is to supplement on-the-job
learning by professionals with new knowledge that is too difficult or
time-consuming for individuals to acquire on their own, its programs
have increasingly become responsive to adult educational needs posed
by problems of urban living such as the development of economic
opportunities for disadvantaged youth, alleviation of social distress
Continuing Education 255
among the poor, drug and alcohol dependence, channeling the ener-
gies of youth from delinquency into new careers, the changing role
of the clergy, etc.1"
These areas of social welfare, which Professor Katz notes, had come
increasingly to occupy the attention of the Center as the early 1960s'
euphoria over a new decade, a new President, and a New Frontier began
to give way to the uneasy recognition of new social problems — pollution,
urban blight, crime, drugs, minority dissatisfaction. Continuing Education,
with its mission to help individuals relate constructively to their environ-
ment and with its practical, problem-solving orientation, was naturally the
unit of the University most closely in touch with these kinds of problems.
As a result, courses designed to update and stretch the competence of
both individuals and organizations in dealing with social stress began to
emerge as a major responsibility of the Center.
One of the first extensions into this area came under Dr. Everett in
1965 when the Center applied for and received six Community Devel-
opment grants under Title I of the Higher Education Act of 1965. The
grants were allotted to provide training for over five hundred leaders in
the areas of alcohol education, volunteer administration, young adult ac-
tivities, and community agencies. As a result, the Center almost imme-
diately developed a major training program for Coordinators of Volunteer
Services, which was subsequently approved by the American Association
of Volunteer Service Coordinators as the only program in the nation to
meet certified standards for training of coordinators. It also published,
with the cooperation of the United Community Service, a Directory of
Volunteer Sert'ice Opportunities in Metropolitan Boston, the first such
listing in the area, and in 1966 initiated and published a new international
periodical. Volunteer Administration, devoted to the promotion of theory
research and programming of volunteer services.
Another 815,375 grant under the Higher Education Act went to the
development of seminars that would bring together concerned clergy of
all faiths with resource persons in social science for the purpose of dis-
cussing the changing role of clergy in society. The program, which was
particularly encouraged by Earl P. Stevenson of Northeastern's Board of
Trustees, gained considerable renown. In 1966 the program was adopted
by the Metropolitan Ministerial Association of Greater Boston as its prin-
cipal educational program.
Still a third program, funded with a 815,000 federal grant, dealt with
the problem of alcoholism, particularly as it affected manpower efficiency
256 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
in the state. Encouraged by Governor John A. Volpe, this Community
Development Program in Alcoholism and Alcoholic Education represented
still another pioneering effort on the part of Northeastern to make edu-
cation, particularly Continuing Education, serve the welfare of the
community.
Although these community-oriented projects were begun under Dean
Everett, they were destined to achieve their full dimension under the
Center's second dean, Israel Katz. In one way this is ironic, for Professor
Katz, a leader in the field of engineering, had been brought to the University
to develop highly specialized advanced engineering and applied science
courses. This might appear, at least at first glance, to be a far cry from the
kind of wide-ranging social welfare programs he was to develop. Such a
conclusion, however, would indeed be superficial. Professor Katz was a
large and expansive man whose educational ideas and capabilities easily
matched his physical stature, and under his direction the Center achieved
even new heights of accomplishments.
As outgoing as Dr. Everett had been inward, Dean Katz was frequently
asked to speak at conferences and participate in educational forums, par-
ticularly when they concerned his own field of engineering. One of his
major contributions to the Center was, in fact, his ability to bring the
message of continuing education not only to the local community, but to
the nation at large. This message comprehended far more than the ad-
vances in his own specialization. Basically it was a repetition of a theme
that he sounded in his June 19, 1969 report to Dr. Knowles: "This year we
have developed several new experimental programs with a view to meet-
ing pressing community needs and, at the same time, realizing substantial
financial returns. It is important that we be innovative and strive for
capturing an important part of the market, but to do so it is necessary to
maintain high quality, be unique and avoid competing with programs that
have been well established elsewhere."11 Although, unfortunately, finan-
cial return was not always realized, there is no question that all of the
other criteria were well satisfied, and "innovation" particularly in relation
to community problems became a hallmark of the Center's endeavors.
Minority Programs. Although for many years Northeastern had
been working to promote minority enrollments in its basic colleges, it
was not until 1967 that the Center began a concerted effort to develop
new programs specifically addressed to the problems of the black com-
munity, which was its neighbor. In that year, it initiated the first of a series
of problem-solving seminars designed to benefit the black businessman.
Three, one-day meetings on Urban Management brought together indus-
trial representatives and ghetto leaders to discuss the issue of bringing
Continuing Education 257
new factories into Roxbury and had at least one concrete result when the
firm of Edgerton, Germeshausen and Grier Inc. ( EG & G ) located a fac-
tory in the area using members of the seminars as consultants. The
following year a similar program was sponsored by the Center, and by
1970 when the all-day seminar "How to Do Business with Government"
was conducted for minority business firms and individuals, the offering
had become a staple of Northeastern's Center for Continuing Education.
Still another program directed toward the ends of improving business
conditions for minorities was the Counseling Workshop designed in con-
junction with Opportunities Industrialization Centers of Greater Boston,
which in March of 1970 elicited the following comments from participants:
It is hard to put into words my sincere appreciation for your help,
and the help of your staff, in making the Counseling Workshop possible
for the OIC counselors. An opportunity like this is very hard to come
by and I personally feel enriched.
[Sam Hurt (Member of OIC) to Dr. Israel Katz,
March 10, 1970]
My co-workers and I agree that we learned something that weekend
and each day we try to put some of it into practice. . . . Gentlemen,
your concern for us, the effort you put forth, the knowledge you share
with us, will be repaid a thousandfold; not in monetary value, but in
the gratitude expressed in a smile, a handshake, a simple thank you.
[Pearlis M. Jones (Counselor of OIC) to Dr. Israel Katz,
March 17, 1970]12
In 1968 the Center was designated as the home for an Upward Bound
Program, supported in part by federal funds administered through the
U.S. Office of Economic Opportunity. The program, which was designed
to serve high school juniors and seniors from low-income backgrounds
who were academic underachievers, proved particularly pertinent to the
black community in Boston. Courses included tutorial work in African
Culture and Fine Arts as well as in English, mathematics, chemistry, bi-
ology7, and so on. Evidence of the success of the first year was quickly
forthcoming when thirteen of the graduating seniors received scholarships
averaging $3,000 each at major local colleges.
In 1969, sparked by pressure from black students on campus, the
Center embarked on still another program when it began work on de-
veloping curricula for noncredit black studies. By 1973, these courses had
achieved such stature that they were incorporated into the College of
Liberal Arts as a degree-granting program. (See Chapter VIII.)
But the extent of the Center's commitment to the black community7
is perhaps best attested to by the Adult Education program that was con-
258 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
ducted at the Roxbury Community School by Center personnel who fre-
quently donated their time over and above their regular duties. A
September 24, 1969, letter from Ms. Ellen Fields, Director of Special Ser-
vices for the Roxbury School, asking that the program be continued, poi-
gnantly expresses its impact:
I realize that we cannot claim a spectacular success in this first ven-
ture— if the burden of proof rests only on the number of people
attending. But I think something far more important took place.
. . . On Tuesday and Wednesday nights at Community School . . .
men and women began to think of themselves as people of worth.
... All of us living in this small community are affected when we
walk by the lighted windows and see our neighbors learning. We used
to think that we lived at a dead end — a place for despair — but that
can't be so. Northeastern University had teachers working late in our
own school. ... If that sounds sentimental, I assure you that it is not.
We have seen and felt the change, a practical, measurable change.13
Young Adult Programs. Another area of social concern with
which the Center was to become increasingly involved during this period
was youth problems. Under the Higher Education Act grant an Urban
Young Adult Project had been initiated in 1965. In 1967, however, an even
more extensive commitment to youth was made when the Center for
Continuing Education began to conduct Community Workshops in East-
ham and Orleans, Massachusetts. A drop-in center, staffed by Notheastern
graduate students, provided films, dramas, and recreational events for over
1,000 college students in a ten-week experimental project that was co-
sponsored by the University and the Boston YMCA. The program was
designed to promote a better understanding of young adult problems and
to formulate ways for town officials to cope with these problems.
One very important aspect of young adult problems during this era
was, of course, drugs, and in 1968 the Center, in cooperation with Boston-
Bouve College and the College of Education initiated a Youth and Drug
Institute. The basic premise of the Institute was articulated by Professor
Taylor E. Roth, its Executive Director: "Appropriate education can prevent
or alleviate some of the increasing problems of chemical and psychological
dependency . . . [but] few teachers have more substantial knowledge than
their students. Therefore this drug institute will provide an opportunity
for school personnel to improve their skills in dealing intelligently and
effectively with the issue."14
Conducted for the first time between June 23 and July 5, 1968, the
week-long conference of the Institute brought together representatives
from public, private, and parochial schools throughout New England and
elicited the comment from Dr. Dana L. Farnsworth of Harvard Medical
Services: "I consider this type of conference a prototype of what should
Continuing Education 259
be held all over the nation. Having youngsters informed about drugs is
the only way to lick the problem. MS The following year the Institute
conducted still another conference sponsored jointly by the National As-
sociation of Independent Schools, which was attended by over seventy-
five persons from twenty-five states as well as from France, South America,
Lebanon, and Canada.
Urban Environment Programs. Still another community area
with which the Center became concerned during this period related to
the problems of the urban environment. Thus, for example, in May 1968,
Professor John H. Kendrick, Director of Education for Urban Living at the
Center, put together a four-day seminar for a small group of business
executives from Massachusetts cities with a view to expanding their
knowledge of the problems of government at various levels, particularly
as they related to inner-city issues.
This was, in essence, a minor preview of programs that were to follow.
Shortly after, the Center, in the person of Dr. Kendrick, who had been
appointed University representative on the Title I of the Commission's
Service Project in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, applied for and
received a 825,000 grant under the Higher Education Act to fund a Uni-
versity Consortium on Local Government. The Consortium, which was
conducted in conjunction with Tufts' Lincoln-Filene Center, Boston Uni-
versity's Metrocenter, University of Massachusetts-Amherst's Bureau of
Government Research, Harvard-MIT's Joint Center for Urban Studies, Bos-
ton College's Bureau of Public Affairs, and Brandeis met for the first session
on October 29, 1968. Its objectives included encouraging more univer-
sities to involve themselves in local government, opening new channels
of communication between universities and local government officials,
and inspiring innovative ways of problem solving.
Other programs in the general area of urban development included
a four-day intensive city planning conference for 160 college students in
the spring of 1968 and an Urban Transportation Management Program
(mentioned above). Also included were a Metro-Urban Conference held
in 1970 and directed toward the end of stimulating more ongoing concern
with the improvement of businesses, housing, and training in the city's
underprivileged areas and a series of seminars in 1970 on Instrumentation
for Monitoring the Environment.
As suggested above, the history of Continuing Education at North-
eastern from i960 through 1973 was the history of a largely autonomous
unit of the University exploring and developing as many ways as it could
find to meet the unmet educational demands of the community. During
260 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
this period the term developed a new definition, new fields of endeavor
were explored, and new levels of education — including advanced post-
terminal degree courses — were provided. Northeastern indeed had be-
come a leader in the field of Continuing Education, demonstrating that
noncredit, practical problem-solving courses could serve a sophisticated
role as laboratory courses for more formal programs, conduits for persons
and courses into degree programs, and forums for the exchange and ad-
vancement of knowledge in areas that were not otherwise covered.
Such expansion, however, had not been accomplished without cost,
and financial problems came increasingly to haunt the Center as the effects
of the 1970s nationwide recession began to be felt throughout the edu-
cational community. As early as 1970, the first cautionary note had been
sounded in the previously mentioned Cost Revenue Examination of the
Center. At that time Professor William A. Lovely, Jr., writing to Professor
Lincoln C. Bateson in the Business Office, had warned that while "the
Center was conceived as an individual and separate University function,
earning revenue and incurring costs ... an examination of several budget
centers reveals that many courses were conducted barely covering the
course costs alone . . . allowing a very small contribution to center
overhead."16
In the general body of his report, Professor Lovely had further pointed
out that except for Radiological Technology, Dental Assistants, Medical
Laboratory Assistants, and State-of-the-Arts, all other "intracenter depart-
ments were net loss producers." Particularly vulnerable were the Social
Service Programs of which Professor Lovely concluded, "The center ex-
pends a questionable amount of time and effort on nonrevenue-producing
'Community Courses' without appraising the cost-benefit relationships."17
While no one could deny the importance of all the Center's programs
in relation to both the image and educational prestige of the University,
no one could deny either the efficacy of Professor Lovely's observations.
Without doubt there was a great deal within the Center, which as Miss
Jones had expressed it, "will be repaid a thousandfold — not in monetary
value but in gratitude." By 1973, however, it was apparent that gratitude
would not be enough. The administration had pledged itself to fiscal re-
sponsibility, and although the Center had done a great deal toward re-
versing its financial losses, its general economic problems mandated still
another reorganization. In the fall of that year, then, the Center for Con-
tinuing Education, after almost a decade of virtual autonomy, was returned
into a single administrative unit with University College and with Kenneth
Continuing Education 261
W. Ballou, Dean of University College, accepting responsibility for all
facets of adult education, much as Dr. Albert E. Everett had a dozen years
earlier.
The change undoubtedly disappointed many of those who had par-
ticipated in the expansion. It was the concensus of the administration,
however, that while existing programs, with few exceptions, were well
conceived, the financial management was in need of revision. Continuing
Education must, said the administration, accomplish two ends: It must
serve the needs of the community and it must do so in a financially sound
manner. The failure to accomplish this latter end had triggered the
reorganization.
Reevaluation of the programs in light of these priorities then followed,
and a series of questions designed to determine how important each
program was in the total scheme of things were posed — for example,
What kind of need is this program truly meeting? What is the financial
cost of meeting this need? Can we afford this financial cost? Are there
other areas where there are unmet needs and, if so, what are they? What
are the kinds of programs that should be put together and can they be
run on a financially sound basis?
As a consequence of this self-analysis, some existing programs were
reorganized, some were eliminated, and still others were expanded. Thus,
for example, the Dental Assistants program was totally revamped. The
Chefs Institute, the State-of-the-Art Engineering, and the Transportation
program were all substantially expanded while new units were added to
the Radiological Technology program. And a completely new Emergency
Medical Training program was introduced. Of all the programs that were
eliminated, probably the most strongly felt loss was that of Electron Mi-
croscopy. This highly sophisticated and unique program had attracted to
Northeastern the best in the field. Nevertheless, it was felt that there was
no way in which it could be financially justified. "For," as Dean Ballou
said, "if we charged anywhere near what the real cost is, then very few
people could afford to take it."
During the next few years, in attempts to put Continuing Education
firmly on its financial feet, the locations where programs were scheduled
vastly increased, much of the promotional literature and publications of
the Center were revamped, and for the first time newspaper advertising
was begun. By 1975 the gross dollar value of the program had increased
substantially, and the Center was ready for even further changes in the
next decade.
Even though recurring reference has been made in previous chapters to
programs in allied health sciences that grew up at Northeastern between
1959 and 1975, it seems worthwhile, even at the risk of repetition, to
summarize their line of development in a separate chapter, for these pro-
grams constituted a vital element in the emergence of Northeastern as a
major university.
In 1959 Northeastern was providing a standard premedical and pre-
dental program through its College of Liberal Arts. In addition, it offered
a small Medical Technology program, which had been introduced in the
early 1950s under the Department of Biology. This latter program, how-
ever, did not enjoy a large enrollment, mainly because at that time medical
technology was a young profession — so young that very few people had
heard of it. In 1953 for example, only 23,000 people were enrolled in the
entire field nationwide. ' It is much to the credit of Northeastern's inno-
vative spirit that it chose to enter the area at such an early date. Altogether,
then, these programs enrolled only a handful of students — in the 1950s
only thirty-three students completed Medical Technology, there was no
University-based health faculty, and all professional courses were offered
at hospitals.
By contrast, in 1975 Northeastern was providing over a dozen
different allied health curricula, with programs offered in all its day
colleges and in University College, Lincoln, and Continuing Education as
262
Allied Health Programs 263
well. The total number of students concerned with some aspect of
allied health was approximately 3,000, and the total number of faculty
approximately loo.2 What had occurred in between to account for this
growth involved a complex amalgam of both internal and external
factors.
Certainly one of the most important of these factors was the
attitude of the administration toward professional education. In a letter
to Frederick Aver, December 13, 1962, Dr. Knowles articulates this
attitude:
If we are to remain a democratic country, free from government
coercion in the selection of careers by individuals, I believe that
universities have a very important public service to perform. It is their
responsibility to make available high-quality education in professional
fields for the approximate number of persons who will be needed in
each field. The University also has the responsibility of attracting
qualified students to embark upon education for these professional
fields,*
In practice this meant that the University stood behind the devel-
opment of programs in areas that it could identify as high priority. One
such area was certainly the health professions. Since World War II, medical
science had made tremendous strides. Sulfa, penicillin, antibiotics, the Salk
vaccine, kidney dialysis — all of which we now take for granted — are only
a few representative examples among the hundreds of developments in
chemistry and technology that served to change the face of modern med-
icine between 1940 and i960. Significantly, between 1950 and i960 alone,
the number of persons employed in health services in the United States
increased by 54 percent.4
In light of these facts, it is hardly surprising that Northeastern was
receptive to the development of health profession programs. Nevertheless,
it did not plunge precipitously into the field but rather developed its
programs in direct response to perceived needs. As a consequence, at least
initially, programs sprang up in different areas of the University as demand
justified, and one of the major problems of the late 1960s would be to
impose some organizational order on this heterogeneous collection of
offerings. In i960, however, the University was simply satisfied "not to
ignore developing shortages in professions which are essential.'"'
The first program to be developed under the new administration was
a revised degree program in Medical Technology, which the administration
now determined should be conducted on the Cooperative Plan of Edu-
cation. The change in format substantially altered the character of the
264 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
original program, and within the next decade Medical Technology at
Northeastern would expand to become Medical Laboratory Sciences. It
encompassed a host of eleven separate curricula ranging from nondegree
certificate programs through master of science programs. Back in 1960—61,
however, the impressive fact was the uniqueness of the Medical Tech-
nology offering, which was subsequently described in the Journal of the
American Medical Association:
The academic program, [which] has been approved and accredited by
the Council on Medical Education and Hospitals in cooperation with
the Board of Schools of medical technology of the American Medical
Association, [is] the first and only program of its type in the United
States. It will give students almost two full years of training in medical
technology at the New England Deaconess Hospital [the New England
Baptist was added almost immediately] while qualifying them at the
same time for a Bachelor's Degree in the field. . . . After completing
basic full-time studies during the freshman year, students for the next
four years will alternate 10- and 16-week periods of classroom study
with periods of equal length in training at the Deaconess [and New
England Baptist] on a cooperative plan basis.6
This description has been included here for two reasons: it limns out
the basic structure of Medical Technology as it was offered at Northeastern
and as it would continue to be offered for the next few decades — with
some changes in affiliation and calendar; and it suggests, by virtue of its
appearance in the official organ of the American Medical Association, the
importance of the program to the medical world at large.
It was also during this early period that Continuing Education became
involved in the health education field. In i960 a program in Nursing Home
Administration was instituted under the aegis of this office. Although this
was basically a business program, it should be noted here because it
indicates the growing relationship between the University and the health
community — a relationship that was of great importance in the devel-
opment of Northeastern's health professions programs. It was not until the
fall of 1961, however, that the first Continuing Education program, de-
signed explicitly for training persons in the health professions, was insti-
tuted. The program, X-ray Technology, was developed by Dean Albert E.
Everett, who worked in conjunction with the New England Roentgen Ray
Society and the Massachusetts Society of X-ray Technologists. In addition
to including basic and advanced courses, each covering 129 hours of
classroom training and 180 to 200 hours of hospital clinic instruction, the
program prepared students to take the registered technicians examination
for licensure.
Allied Health Programs 265
These programs served to introduce Northeastern into health-related
fields. The major qualitative and quantitative leap forward in this area,
however, occurred between 1962 and 1965. Significantly, the time coin-
cides with the period when the federal government was becoming active
in developing legislation pertinent to health. There were, for example, to
name only a few of the acts passed in a single twelve-month period, from
1963 to 1964, the Health Professions Act, the Medicaid and Medicare Acts,
the Economic Opportunities Training Act, which included provisions for
health training, the Graduate Health Training Act, and the Nurse Training
Act. All of these served to reflect and to create an environment conducive
to the development of health professions. Certainly the administration at
Northeastern was well aware of this fact, as evidenced by the opening of
the College of Pharmacy in 1962, the College of Nursing in 1964, and
Boston-Bouve with its programs in Physical Therapy in 1964. All of these
programs have been discussed in Chapter VII, and the details need not be
repeated here. An important addition not previously mentioned, however,
was the University's affiliation with the School of Dental Hygienists of the
Forsyth Dental Center.
The Forsyth School had been founded in 1917 as the second dental
hygiene school in the United States. In 1948, in order to comply with the
demand by the Council on Dental Education of the American Dental
Association for a two-year minimal course of education for dental hygien-
ists, it became associated with Tufts University, which provided its aca-
demic courses. Then in 1962, for a variety of reasons that included both
Northeastern's growing reputation and its location — the University was
physically adjacent to Forsyth — the School transferred its collegiate affil-
iation to its neighbor. The effect of this transfer cannot be overestimated.
Forsyth School for Dental Hygienists was the largest school of its kind in
the world, and its reputation was international.
Under provisions of this affiliation, students pursued a two-year, full-
time course of study in dental hygiene, attending classes both at Forsyth
Dental Center and Northeastern. The program led to a Certificate in Dental
Hygiene from Forsyth and the degree of Associate in Science from North-
eastern. Students who completed the two-year program could then apply
their credits toward a Bachelor of Science in Education with a major in
Health Education conducted as a three-year cooperative program by
Boston-Bouve.
Other degree-granting programs in the health professions also initi-
ated during this period included a five-year course in Speech and Hearing
Therapy, which was conducted by the College of Education and led to a
Bachelor of Science in Education (1964); and a Bioelectronic Engineering
266 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
Technology program leading to the Associate in Engineering degree con-
ducted under the aegis of Lincoln College (1965). In the meantime, the
Office of Continuing Education, in response to hospital demand, intro-
duced two more paramedical programs: In 1962 it opened a Dental As-
sistants Program conducted in affiliation with Tufts University School of
Dentistry, which prepared students for the certification examination of
the Certifying Board of the American Dental Association; and in 1964 it
added a Medical Laboratory Assistants Program to prepare students for
certificate examinations conducted by the Board of Certified Laboratory
Assistants.
Two programs not specifically health oriented in content but never-
theless important in continuing a good relationship between the University
and the health community included a special three-year degree-granting
program, conducted in conjunction with the Massachusetts General Hos-
pital. In this program Northeastern provided academic courses for MGH
freshmen, and the Nursing School at MGH provided the professional pro-
grams that would lead to an associate's degree. Northeastern also provided
a nondegree special nursing program conducted in conjunction with the
schools of nursing at Peter Bent Brigham, New England Deaconess, and
Children's hospitals whereby Northeastern supplied science programs to
those hospital school students. The first of these was phased out in 1964
when Northeastern's College of Nursing opened. The second program
continued into the 1980s and has expanded to include other hospitals over
the years.
By 1965 then, Northeastern was well on the way to becoming a major
source of health personnel at all levels for the Boston area. At this point
it offered the following: four master's-level programs in pharmacy; seven
bachelor programs in nursing, pharmacy, physical therapy, audiology,
medical technology, premedical, and predental; three associate degree
programs in nursing, dental hygiene, and bioelectronic engineering tech-
nology; and three certificate programs in medical laboratory assistant,
dental assistant, and x-ray technician. Altogether, the growth had been
substantial albeit, as suggested in the opening of this chapter, relatively
eclectic. By 1965 then, the time had come to try to bring together and
coordinate some of these efforts.
Contributing to the administration's sense that the health professions
programs must be coordinated and developed even beyond their current
accomplishments were conditions in the larger world. For example, by
Allied Health Programs 267
this time the full impact of the first federal legislation in the health areas
was just beginning to be felt. Of all these federally funded programs,
probably Medicare and Medicaid were the most effective in increasing the
number of persons who qualified for health care. But whatever the cause,
the need for health service personnel at all levels was catapulting upward.
A few pertinent statistics substantiate this claim. By 1964, according to
the U.S. Public Health Service, approximately three million persons were
employed in the health service industries, or roughly 4 percent of the
work force. By 1965, according to Dr. Philip R. Lee, Assistant Secretary of
the U.S. Department of Health, Education and Welfare, there was a shortage
of 600,000 people in the health field; and by 1965, according to Francis
Keppel, former Assistant Secretary of the Department of Health, Education
and Welfare, there was "an immediate need to add 10,000 people to the
health labor force every month, and this need would probably continue
until 1975"7
In response to these conditions, the federal government took still
further action and in 1966 passed the Health Personnel Training Act to
"speed up the training of paramedical personnel and other health workers."
This act, in conjunction with the Graduate Health Training Act in 1964,
"to increase the number of skilled administrators and public health work-
ers," increased pressure on Northeastern to expand its own services.
Coordination and organization, however, were a prerequisite of such
expansion.
As early as December 1, 1964, the first effort was made in this direc-
tion, and a Committee on Coordinating Programs in the Health Sciences
was formed with "responsibility for maintaining liaison among those con-
cerned with these activities."8 Dr. Samuel Fine, Professor of Biomedical
Engineering, agreed to serve as Chairman, and deans and professors with
direct responsibility for health service programs were asked to serve as
members.
By early spring of 1965, however, when it was clear that a more formal
structure than an ad hoc committee was needed, Northeastern's first Di-
vision of Allied Medical Science was established. Professor Edmund J.
McTernan, recruited from Boston University, was named Coordinator of
Allied Health Programs and Chairman of the Health Committee. His charge
was to coordinate programs related to patient care, encourage and su-
pervise the development of new programs, and serve as a liaison for the
University within the hospital and medical community.
Professor McTernan remained at Northeastern for four years, leaving
in 1969 to assume the directorship of Health Service Activities at the
Stoneybrook campus of the State University of New York. At this point
268 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
John W. Schermerhorn of the College of Pharmacy assumed the deanship.
Under the direction of these men several major programs were developed.
Among the most important were those in various areas of medical admin-
istration. The reason for their establishment is particularly significant in
light of the aforementioned conditions. A memorandum sent from Pro-
fessor McTernan to Dr. Knowles in early 1966 suggests Northeastern's
sensitivity to these conditions and its responsiveness:
Nursing homes, as much or more than other patient care facilities, are
entering a stage of rapid change and evolution. . . . Recent federal
legislation (including Medicare) and increasing state regulation con-
verts the nursing home more and more to a hospital-type of organi-
zation. . . . Increased government involvement in all areas creates
similarities in the roles of administrators of all types of patient care
which did not exist ten or even five years ago. ... A tremendous
opportunity exists for Northeastern to make a significant and unique
contribution to this broad area of concern by moving towards an
holistic approach to the discipline of health care administration, some-
thing that has never been done . . . before. Through a Department,
or perhaps Institute of Medical Care Administration, an integrated
curriculum would be offered to meet the needs of future and prac-
ticing administrative personnel in all kinds of medical care ad-
ministration.9
As a consequence of this memorandum, or more particularly of the
conditions it depicts, a Bachelor of Science degree program was initiated
in 1966 in the Management of Health Agencies and Institutions and Nursing
Home Administration in University College. That same year a Master of
Education degree in Rehabilitation Administration became part of the
College of Education.
Closely connected with this type of program and springing out of the
same kind of needs were Medical Record Science programs. The first of
these, developed in cooperation with the Massachusetts Association of
Medical Records Librarians, was begun in University College in 1966 and
led to a Bachelor of Science degree. A few years later when the College
of Pharmacy and Allied Health Professions was established, Medical Record
Administration leading to the Bachelor of Science became one unit of that
new division.
In the meantime, still other health education programs were devel-
oping. An honors curriculum in Biophysics and Biomedical Engineering
leading to the degree of Bachelor of Engineering Biophysics was estab-
Allied Health Programs 269
lished in the College of Engineering in 1966. A graduate level program also
in that College led to a Master in Civil Engineering with Sanitary Engi-
neering as an option and ineluded courses in such health-related fields as
public health engineering, air pollution, radiological health engineering,
and industrial hygiene. Other master's level programs included a Master
of Science in Health Sciences, introduced under the Department of Bi-
ology, and a Master of Education degree program for the teaching of the
emotionally disturbed child. A Bachelor of Science degree program be-
came available in Cytotechnology under the joint aegis of University Col-
lege and Lincoln College, and an associate degree program in Inhalation
Therapy was offered through University College.
Altogether, it was a time of great expansion. By the end of 1966,
Professor McTernan was reporting "some 25 programs in health-related
areas, enrolling approximately 1,800 students." By 1968 the number of
these programs had increased to over thirty in thirteen different areas:
administration, biomedical engineering and technology, dental assistants
and dental hygiene, inhalation therapy, medical laboratory techniques,
medical record administration science, mental health, nursing, pharmacy,
physical therapy, audiology and speech pathology, and radiographic
technology.10
Yet despite the great strides that had been made in increasing numbers
of programs, and despite the existence of a central clearinghouse for
information about programs established through the Division, administra-
tive control remained a central issue. Exacerbating the situation were the
increasing professionalization of health professions programs and the in-
creasing number of students applying for admission. The 1967 passage of
the Clinical Laboratory Improvement Act, for example, whereby a degree
in Medical Laboratory Science became a requisite for work in many lab-
oratories, increased enrollments in this area at Northeastern. Shortly after,
President Nixon's cutback in research funds brought to the program even
more applicants who now sought a medical technology degree as one
access to clinical laboratory work. Even before this, however, was Presi-
dent Johnson's 1968 Health Message to Congress, wherein he expressed
his intention to extend the Health Personnel Training Act of 1966 and
the Graduate Training Act of 1964, and to introduce a new Health Man-
power Act in 1968.
At this point, in order to meet the challenge of ever- increasing ex-
pansion, Dr. Knowles proposed the establishment of a College of Allied
Health Sciences to bring together under one administrative umbrella all
27O ACADEMIC EXPANSION
of the programs in that area at Northeastern. The proposal followed on
an exhaustive Study for the Organization of Curricula for the Health
Related Professions, which had been prepared for the Commonwealth
Fund under the direction of Loring M. Thompson, Director of Planning,
and Dean McTernan. x '
Few people would disagree that in light of the number of health
programs offered by Northeastern, a College of Allied Health Sciences was
more than justified by the late 1960s. The historical development of these
programs, however, actually precluded the realistic possibility of such a
unit being formed.
As early as 1964 Dr. Knowles had begun to explore the possibility of
such a College and the files of his office for this and following years show
a myriad of correspondence with relevant institutions on just how this
could be accomplished. In 1966 Professor McTernan in a memorandum
to the President wrote, "A college of allied health sciences . . . free to
work cooperatively with any number or type of patient care institutions
should be able to take an overview of needs and priorities, and thus
develop for the first time a spectrum of courses designed to meet to-
morrow's needs for patient care personnel at all levels and in all
specialities."12
Professor McTernan went on to map out a possible organization for
just such a college. But, although on paper such a plan appeared feasible,
the proliferation of programs had been so rapid and the commitment of
the various college faculties to the development of their own programs
had become so deep, that to alter the entrenched situation in such a
radical manner proved impossible. Nor was the human factor the only
problem; there was also the relationship of the University to its various
colleges. Thus, for example, both Pharmacy and Boston-Bouve had merged
with Northeastern in full expectation of continuing their own programs.
Nursing had been established with much the same sense of self. In addition,
the colleges of Education and Engineering were not particularly enthu-
siastic about giving up control of their programs — an attitude that could
be amply justified in light of the dual character of these programs.
For several years, then, the University delayed the problem of a new
College of Allied Health Professions. (Loring Thompson's report to the
Commonwealth Fund, mentioned above, clearly and succinctly sums up
the thinking on this matter until 1968.) During the academic year 1968—69,
the Faculty Senate continued to consider the organization of the health
Allied Health Programs 271
programs, working toward the establishment of a separate basic college
of health professions. Various patterns of administrative consolidation
were considered and rejected, until finally in 1970 a compromise position
was arrived at. According to the provisions of this plan the College of
Pharmacy would become affiliated with the Division of Allied Health Sci-
ences, although it would retain its own budget and control of its own
programs. Programs administered under Boston-Bouve, Nursing, Educa-
tion, and Engineering would remain under those colleges, but the College
of Pharmacy and Allied Health Professions would assume administrative
control, would write the curricula and the degrees for almost all other
programs that were provided through University and Lincoln Colleges and
Continuing Education.
As with all compromises, the solution was not without flaw. The
grouping together of programs as varied as graduate and certification
programs created some friction. Nevertheless, the new College went into
operation in the fall of 1971, and Dean Helene Loux assumed the position
of Associate Dean in 1972 with responsibility for all health science pro-
grams. These are listed in the catalog for 1972—73 as comprehending
Medical Laboratory Sciences, Medical Records Administration, Dental Hy-
giene and Management in Health Agencies and Institutes, Radiological
Technology, and Respiratory Therapy. In the following years there would
be some realignment of the programs, but the basic structure of the College
remained constant.
By 1970 health professions in Boston alone were employing 87,000
persons, and as such they accounted for 7.7 percent of the total work
force of Greater Boston — a situation that made the health professions
second only to education as the chief employer in the area. Certainly such
a situation bore out the observation that Dr. Knowles had made a decade
earlier when he identified health professions "as one of the fastest growing
segments of the economy."13 Northeastern had responded to this obser-
vation in the development of its programs; the new organizational ar-
rangement suggested that it would continue to respond, and by 1975,
when health professions had become one of the University's largest areas
of study, it was clear that it had done so.
XIII
University Libraries,
Learning Resources, and
Computation Center
Paralleling the development of Northeasterns academic programs
was the development of the University's academic support services,
particularly those concerned with instructional content: the Libraries,
Learning Resources, and Computation Center. (For other academic
support services, see Chapter XVI.) Between i960 and 1975 these areas
increased exponentially as new programs, record enrollments, and
technological advances made their impact felt.
l
THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES
From its inception Northeastern, of course, had had a library. In the
very early days its collection had been combined with that of the Boston
YMCA. Volumes in law, engineering, and business had vied for limited
space, first in the small Berkeley Street facility, and after 1912, in the much
larger new YMCA building on Huntington Avenue.1 As the University
attained greater definition, so also did its collection, and in the mid- 1930s
Northeastern appointed its first official librarian, Myra White. At this point
the University's holdings were separated from that of the YMCA and moved
into even more extensive quarters in the long wing of the Huntington
272
Libraries, Learning Resources, and Computation Center 273
Avenue building. Students of the period fondly remember Miss White's
formidable supervision of a collection that now extended from floor to
ceiling, with law books alone occupying half the massive oak-paneled
space. By the late 1940s, however, even this area proved inadequate, and
plans began for a library building. In 1953 Northeastern's 22,000 volumes
were finally moved into a home of their own, a newly constructed building
that formed the eastern side of the University's quadrangle. And from 1953,
then, dates the beginning of Northeastern's library as it exists today.
With a change in headquarters came a change in the University's
attitude toward its library, a recognition that, were the collection to fulfill
its function as a major academic support service in the late twentieth
century, it would need to be expanded and retailored along lines con-
sonant with modern professional educational aims. Toward this end,
Roland H. Moody, who had been responsible for shaping Harvard's Lamont
Collection, was retained as Director of Northeastern's library. Shortly after,
Albert M. Donley, former Librarian of the Dedham Public Library, was
appointed Assistant Librarian. Both these men remained through Dr.
Knowles's term. Building on the foundation set by Miss White, who had
retired, they were to be instrumental in shaping Northeastern's collection
into a first-class university facility.
Between 1953 and 1959 Northeastern's collection expanded geo-
metrically. The total number of volumes rose to 84,000, not including
1,175 periodical titles. The staff grew to seventeen persons, of whom seven
were professional librarians. And the total operating expenditure for the
fiscal year ending June 1959, was $i30,ooo.2 (At this point the library was
also responsible for all audiovisual material, but because the two areas
were separated in 1966 and not reunited again until 1975, they have been
treated here in separate sections.)
Quantitative growth alone was not the only achievement of these
early years. At the same time certain general policies were established
that would serve as guidelines for development over the next two decades.
Essentially these policies encompassed the notion of the University library
as a service organization in which students, faculty, and community should
all be active participants. To assure the involvement of students, the staff
contrived the then revolutionary idea of providing instruction in the li-
brary process, and staff doubled as teachers, first in mandatory freshman
courses and later in more informal sessions. To assure faculty participation,
library committees were established in each academic department to work
with library liaison personnel on the selection of new titles and the cre-
ation of new collections. Finally, to underscore commitment to the com-
munity, the library became a member of the New England Library
274 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
Information Network. Under Dr. Knowles all of these practices continued
and, in fact, expanded.
On October 28, 1959, shortly after inauguration, Dr. Knowles presided
at his first official dedication — the unveiling of a plaque naming North-
eastern's library building in honor of Robert Gray Dodge. The first lecturer
in Northeastern's School of Law — from whose opening lecture, in fact, the
University dates its founding — Mr. Dodge was also the first non-YMCA
member of the Board of Trustees (1932-1936) and the first Chairman of
Northeastern's Corporation and Board of Trustees ( 1937-1959). In a sense
the unveiling served as a symbol: The prelude was over, the themes of
expansion and service set between 1953 and 1959 were secure, now the
curtain would rise on a time of fulfillment.
Central to this fulfillment was the development of Northeastern's
library collection to new levels of sophistication. In i960 the University
began to consider the introduction of doctoral-level programs and the
expansion of research. Simultaneously, the Dodge staff, in conjunction
with appropriate faculty committees, began work on developing collec-
tions that would be suitable to these pursuits. In 1961, in the same year
that Northeastern approved doctoral work in chemistry and physics,
Dodge opened its first graduate research divisional library. The division,
located in the United Realty building, brought together into one conve-
nient place all high-level material appropriate to the development of re-
search projects, research grants, and doctoral theses in chemistry and
physics.
At the same time committees also began to develop other graduate/
research collections in psychology, mathematics, and electrical engineer-
ing. In 1966, on completion of the Charles A. Dana Research Building, the
physics collection was moved to this facility where it was combined with
material pertinent to electrical engineering to become Northeastern's sec-
ond graduate research divisional library. In the meantime, material relevant
to mathematics was placed in United Realty. Then, in 1968 the third grad-
uate research divisional library opened in Edward L. Hurtig Hall. This new
building, which would house the departments of Chemistry, Chemical
Engineering, and Allied Health Sciences, now became the home of collec-
tions in those areas. At the same time the psychology collection moved
in with mathematics.
The addition of the graduate research divisional libraries, inspired by
the enhancement of Northeastern's graduate and research programs, was
a major step in the development of the University's collections. Of no less
Libraries, Learning Resources, and Computation Center 275
importance, however, was the growing size and range of the holdings in
other areas. A central factor in this growth was the addition of new colleges
and courses in new fields of study. The opening of Pharmacy, Boston-
Bouve, Nursing, and Criminal Justice, and the introduction of new pro-
grams such as those in Allied Health Sciences, Actuarial Science, and
African-American programs, to name only a few, Drought new constituen-
cies with new needs that were reflected in a constantly widening selection
of titles.
Further enhancing the scope of the collection was the 1963 choice
of Northeastern as an official depository of government documents. In
1962 a Federal Depository Library Act, which would increase the number
of such depositories around the country, was passed. Several such facilities
already existed in eastern Massachusetts, and initially it was thought that
a new facility might be placed west of Boston. Northeastern, however,
was eager for such an addition. Speaker of the House John W. McCormack,
Representative from Massachusetts, was sympathetic to the University's
ambitions and thus intervened in its favor. As a consequence, Northeastern
joined MIT and Harvard and became the third university in the area to
receive such documents. Concentrating its selections on those areas in
which Northeastern was particularly strong as well as on standard refer-
ences, the University received about 48 percent of all available government
material.
Still two other events that influenced the size and range of North-
eastern's collection were the establishment of the Burlington and Nahant
campuses and the growing interest in Northeastern's own history. The
opening of the Burlington campus, which served not only conventional
day college students but also graduate students, students in University and
Lincoln colleges, and persons in State-of-the-Art and other Continuing
Education programs, underlined the need to develop a facility to meet
their relatively sophisticated demands. The Burlington Campus Library7
thus opened in 1964, with the aid of funds from the Lufkin Trust. The
opening of the Marine Science Institute Library in Nahant had a parallel
effect on science holdings, which were expanded by the development of
a Marine Science collection. By the early 1970s the University had also
grown sufficiently to put a new emphasis on its own past. As a conse-
quence, in 1972 Mr. Donley was appointed Northeastern's first archivist
and rare-book curator.
All of these aforementioned reasons for development are, of course,
essentially internal, having to do with changes in the University itself. Even
276 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
the designation of Northeastern as an official depository can be seen as
a reflection of the Institution's own increasing status. Another and equally
important element in the story of the library's evolution during this period,
however, had its roots outside of the University in the development of
technology.
Following World War II, technology, particularly electronic technol-
ogy, had begun to develop very rapidly in the United States. By the 1950s
its impact was coming to be felt in almost all areas of American life. By
the 1960s technology had arrived at a stage where even the very concept
of traditional libraries was being altered. On the one hand it was affecting
the medium of communication itself, placing a new emphasis on audio-
visual materials as a way of communicating ideas and on microforms rather
than physical volumes as a way of storing information; on the other hand,
electronics were revolutionizing the way of managing, coordinating, and
gaining access to information. The effect of this technological explosion
on Northeastern's own library cannot be overestimated.
In 1953 Dr. William C. White had asked the library to assume re-
sponsibility for a small audiovisual service that included some equipment,
books, and periodicals on relevant subjects, and photographic and slide
productions. By 1964 the amount of material and use of the service had
grown to a point that justified the creation of a separate Programmed
Instruction collection, which alone included two hundred instructional
programs and twenty-five teaching devices that were used for develop-
mental and research work in programmed instruction.3 While this area
operated autonomously, the library retained control of other audiovisual
material. By 1966, however, this latter service had grown so large that the
Director of the Libraries recommended the establishment of a Learning
Resource Center that would function alongside the University Libraries,
and shortly after an Office of Educational Resources was set up under the
direction of James E. Gilbert (see below). Although in any discussion of
facilities, Learning Resources continued to be linked with the Libraries,
it was not until late 1975 that the area again came under the administration
of Roland H. Moody, whose title was now expanded to read, Dean of
University Libraries and Learning Resources.
In the meantime, technology was providing a supplement to physical
volumes. Microfilms, microcards, and microfiches had become increas-
ingly popular. These tiny pieces of film allowed Northeastern to acquire
a collection that could not have been ever considered a decade earlier:
an entire year of the New York Times could be stored on a roll of film
occupying no more than a 3x5x2" box, while as many as 1,000 pages of
material could be kept on a supra-microfiche no larger than an index card.
Libraries, Learning Resources, and Computation Center 277
In the mid-1960s, then, the University began to augment its holdings in
this manner. One of its first major purchases came in 1965 with the Early
American Imprint Series, which contained, on a handful of microcards, a
rich collection of every extant book, pamphlet, and broadside printed in
the United States between 1639 and 1820. At the same time, a series of
books on microfilms, which were based on Pollard and Redgrave and Wing
Short Title Catalogues, including all English publications from 1475 to
1700, were also purchased. By 1975 roughly 50 percent of Northeastern's
700,000 collection was on microform.4
Still a third effect of technology on the library was the increasing
computerization of its various functions. In the mid-1960s the first com-
puter system was introduced for the U.S. Government documents — a first
for Northeastern. The system was designed by then Associate Director
Albert Donley and Richard I. Carter of the Computation Center and Robert
M. O'Brien of Administrative Computer Services. Northeastern was the
only Depository Library to have a computer-produced classification and
subject book catalog of its holdings. It was the beginning of data file
systems at Northeastern leading to on-line systems in the ensuing years.
In 1967 an acquisition system was added whereby books could be selected,
ordered, and processed electronically rather than by hand. The system
not only made the ordering of books more efficient but also was useful
as an evaluation tool and as a tool to determine that all disciplines within
the University were being effectively and fairly served. In 1968 the com-
puterized circulation system was introduced. Although some readers
might regret the passing of handwritten cards that allowed one to see all
those who had previously selected a volume, there was no question that
the replacement of these miniature chronicles by the more impersonal
"do not fold, spindle, or mutilate'' equivalent increased service to the
University community. A data file printed from the cards permitted a
researcher to know not only what was out, but also who had it and when
it was due. In 1969 the reserve book collection was put on computer, and
that same year a computerized rather than card catalog was put in place
for the Chemistr\r and Allied Health Sciences Graduate Research Library —
a system that was subsequently introduced in other divisional libraries
producing book and microfiche catalogs (COM).
The sum effect of all these devices was to make the operation of the
library more efficient and to expedite the increasing volume of work that
it had to handle. Essentially, these were management tools. In the 1970s,
however, the University also began to add computer terminals, which
increased access to material almost indefinitely through on-line access to
data files at the Ohio College Library Center (OCLC), located in Columbus,
278 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
Ohio. By 1975 five such terminals had been added. A cataloging system
that allowed the library to catalog materials by computer terminal and
produce library cards was installed in 1972. Three others were added in
rapid succession: ( 1 ) an acquisitions system that verified bibliographic
information quickly and efficiently and was used for searching new titles
for purchase, (2) a computerized interlibrary loan system that located
materials in other libraries in the United States, and (3) a computerized
bibliographical data file for periodicals and serials that was compatible
with the aforementioned systems and extended their functions.
In 1974 another on-line terminal was added. This data file search
system, initially keyed into thirty-five data bases covering a variety of
educational disciplines, gave access to bibliographical information in sev-
eral fields and provided a printout of abstracts and, in some cases, of
complete texts. At the same time Northeastern began the purchase of
microforms containing the material referred to by the computer file. One
of the first such purchases was from the Educational Research Information
Center (ERIC), and others soon followed — for example, from the National
Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA), Department of Defense
(DOD), Defense Documentation Center (DDC), and National Technical
Information Service (NTIS). By 1975 Northeastern not only had access to
almost ninety data bases, but also to the research materials in books,
periodicals, documents, technical publications, and microforms necessary
for documentation referral.
As the library collection burgeoned, as the tools of management be-
came increasingly sophisticated, so also the housing needs of the library
grew and changed. In 1953 the entire operation — the storage of books,
the offices, the reading space — had occupied only four rooms of the library
building, the rest of the space being devoted to classrooms. By 1959 when
the facility was dedicated, the collection and offices had come to fill two
of the four available floors. In the next few years as the collection grew,
a series of remodelings became necessary. In 1962 the first of these major
changes occurred when the reading room on the third floor of Dodge was
established and equipped to accommodate 164 students. Although the
founding of the divisional libraries relieved some of the pressure for space,
shelves were no sooner emptied than they were filled with new acqui-
sitions; and although the purchase of microforms decreased the need for
room to house actual volumes, it increased the need for room to house
microform reading machines.
By 1966 Dean Moody was reporting a collection in excess of 300,000,
about evenly divided between physical volumes and microforms. The
library budget had reached $500,000, of which $200,000 was being alio-
Libraries, Learning Resources, and Computation Center 279
cated yearly for new books and periodical subscriptions.9 In face of the
University's continued growth, it was predicted that space for 500,000
physical volumes would be needed in the near future. At this point the
University Trustees approved the preparation of plans for a new, combined
library and learning resource center. ( For the ultimate fate of this project,
see Chapter XX. ) Although plans were actually drawn up for an eleven-
story complex that would provide undreamed of space for every possible
function of the library as well as vastly extended Learning Resources, and
although hopes were high, by 1970 it had become clear that such plans
would have to be postponed indefinitely, such dreams frustrated at least
for the foreseeable future.
As an alternative it was decided to remodel the existing structure,
and funds to that effect were allocated for work beginning in 1971. Ap-
proximately $750,000 went into renovations, which literally extended
from top to bottom. The basement and first two floors were extensively
redone, and classrooms were closed on the third and fourth floors, with
the former opened to stacks and reading areas and the latter to Learning
Resources. New lighting, carpeting, air conditioning, shelving, furniture,
and a new microforms room with readers and reader printers were in-
stalled. An additional late-twentieth-century touch was the establishment
of a tattletale system whereby books were magnetized to sound a buzzer
if any user were so foolhardy as to attempt stealing them from the library.
Although remodeling was not the final solution to the problems of library
space, it nevertheless proved an effective if temporary alternative.
By 1975 Northeastern's library comprised six units: the Dodge Library,
the three graduate research divisional libraries, and the collections at
Nahant and Burlington. In addition, cataloging had been done for an ex-
tensive Music Reference Room, which in 1973 had become affiliated with
Learning Resources, and for the African-American Institute library. With
the aid of computerization, methods of cataloging, acquiring, searching
for, and keeping records of information had greatly altered. Furthermore,
although library holdings amounted to almost 700,000 items, access by
computer meant that the library user had literally at his/her fingertips
almost any piece of material in the country. Simultaneously, staff had
grown to seventy-nine, twenty-eight of whom were professional librarians,
while the total expenditure of the libraries, exclusive of electronic aids,
had reached $ 1,325,000.°
Despite this radical growth, however, the basic policies established
in the early 1950s remained intact. Students were still instructed in the
workings of the library, although their instruction now included infor-
mation on a wide range of sophisticated media formats and the ability to
280 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
search computer data files; the faculty was still consulted on additions and
new collections; and community affiliation had expanded broadly. Mem-
bership continued in the New England Library Information Network
(NELINET). In addition, in the early 1970s the University Libraries became
linked with the Ohio College Library Center (OCLA) through computers,
and in 1973 they joined the Boston Library Consortium, which meant that
Northeastern students and faculty had access to the collections of the ten
major academic and research libraries in the Boston area and that these
institutions had access to the collections at Northeastern. By any measure
the record of the University Libraries during this era was impressive.
2
OFFICE OF EDUCATIONAL (LEARNING) RESOURCES
In the spring of 1958, in an address delivered at the Northwest Ohio
District Meeting of the Ohio Library Association, Dr. Knowles had spoken
glowingly of ". . . the startling developments of this era ... in the field
of communications."7 The possibilities for education provided by a host
of new electronic devices fascinated Dr. Knowles, and he brought this
enthusiasm with him to Northeastern.
During his first few months in office, the new president promoted
the expansion of the learning resource aspect of the library, supporting
the development of closed-circuit television as a learning device and en-
couraging the purchase and use of a variety of audiovisual equipment. By
1963 over six hundred films were being borrowed or rented from the
library for class use. Even more significant for the future of Learning
Resources, however, were the plans then under way for a Division of Pro-
grammed Learning. For the first time electronic devices would be used
in a systematic way for the purposes of instruction and research. Specif-
ically the Division would:
apply the principles of programming to freshman students in order
to overcome weaknesses in certain areas with the purpose of im-
proving retention;
provide instruction for both graduate and undergraduate students in
the College of Education;
assist the Center for Continuing Education in utilizing this technique
in industrial training; and
conduct research in cooperation with the Department of Psychology.8
The project, which went into operation in January 1964, was too large
to be managed by the library and was established as a separate service
Libraries, Learning Resources, and Computation Center 281
with James E. Gilbert, Northeastern's first professor of Programmed In-
struction, acting as Director and reporting directly to Provost William C.
White. Although initially the library retained control of other audiovisual
material, the rapid growth of programmed learning and the increasing
importance of audiovisual material in general soon made it clear that it
would be more practical to divide the management of the two areas
definitively. In March 1967, then, an Office of Educational Resources was
created as a distinct and separate academic service. The Office was de-
signed to "facilitate the learning of students, to make available instructional
services, equipment and media that would support the faculty instructional
effort, and to engage in research and development instructional systems
and innovations."9 James E. Gilbert was appointed Director of the new
unit, which had four service divisions: (1) audiovisual media, (2) pro-
grammed learning, (3) instructional television, and (4) instructional sys-
tems and learning laboratories.
Other personnel of the Office of Educational Resources (OER) in-
cluded Professor Roy C. Johnston, Director of Educational Television, and
Professor Alvin Kent, Director of the Division of Programmed Instruction,
which now offered more than thirty-five programs from calculus to the
fundamentals of music to Spanish. The program served about five hundred
students a week who, proceeding at their own pace in courses scheduled
at their convenience, completed programs in one-half to three-quarters
of the time that would have been required for a conventional class.10
Equipment and facilities in the new office included a 2500 MH2 In-
structional Television Fixed Service (ITFS) color-capable system that had
been provided with the aid of a $160,000 federal grant; calculators, type-
writers and tape recorders — available in a machine aids study room; an
EDEX multimedia student response instruction facility subsidized by the
Educational Division of the Raytheon Company; and videotape recorder
systems from the General Electric Foundation for Research. In addition,
fifteen classrooms were equipped for the use of telelecture equipment. ' '
In the course of the next twenty months, the responsibilities and staff
of OER expanded rapidly. At the end of December 1968, Professor Gilbert
moved to the Office of Vice President Kenneth G. Ryder to aid him in the
administration and coordination of these services, and in July 1969, Alvin
Kent became the Director of OER.
By 1970 changing conditions justified another organizational change.
In August of that year, Dr. Thomas E. Cyr was retained to become head
of the Division of Programmed Learning, which was now changed to the
Division of Instructional Systems Development. Dr. Mina B. Ghattas, who
had previously been an Associate Professor of Audiovisual Education at
282 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
Wisconsin State University (later the University of Wisconsin at LaCrosse)
and before that had directed the Audiovisual Center at the American
University of Beirut, was appointed Director of Northeastern's Division
of Instructional Media. With the appointment of these two men, the in-
ternal structure of both these areas altered.
As Director of the Division of Instructional Systems Development, Dr.
Cyr's tasks included supervising the work of instructional designers and
coordinating it with faculty clients. In addition, he became responsible for
television production and technical support services. Dr. Ghattas's work
involved participation in the design of instructional systems and direction
of the Campus Media (AV) Services, the Instructional Technology Infor-
mation and Materials Center, and direction of the complex of study and
systems facilities. He was also instrumental in developing the Media Pro-
duction Laboratory and the Photography and Graphics Services.
In one sense these shifts in names and responsibilities are of less
import than what they indicate about the entire character of instructional
systems as they evolved at Northeastern. From a relatively small program
in 1964 Educational Resources had become a major instructional support
area by 1970, commanding a $525,000 budget, with a total staff of over
forty persons including assistants and work/study personnel.12
As a new unit the Office was not without problems. Some of the first
efforts in instructional development had an almost science-fiction cast.
The student pursuing an early programmed course in basic psychology,
for example, might never see an instructor and even receive his or her
grades from a computer. Over the years it became clear that such a totally
impersonal delivery was not consonant with the real aims of education,
and the approach was modified to allow for greater human contact. Per-
sonnel and other technical problems also abounded. In a new field, what
services and facilities can be realistically provided and who is responsible
for what must often be worked out by trial and error. Such issues as the
copyrighting of material and the accordance of academic credit are cases
in point. In November 1969 the Faculty Senate addressed itself to the latter
issue, and a policy pertinent to the development, production, and imple-
mentation of instructional media was recommended and passed by the
Board of Trustees January 9, 1970. 13
Following the renovation of the Robert Gray Dodge Library in 1974,
many of the components of the Office of Educational Resources moved
back into the building and took over most of the fourth floor of that
facility, including the language laboratories and the music area. With the
aid of a Mellon Foundation grant, awarded in 1973—74, these operations
now became integrated with the Learning Resource Center. The grant
Libraries, Learning Resources, and Computation Center 283
contributed to the development of sophisticated language laboratory
equipment, a high-quality music listening tape system, and individual fa-
cilities for viewing video tapes, slides/audio tapes, and film strips.
By the time Dr. Knowles stepped down from the Presidency, the
Office of Learning Resources had become an integral part of the instruc-
tional support services of the University. Altogether it encompassed the
following: a Campus Media Service (AV) responsible for providing re-
source materials and equipment; an Instructional Materials Service re-
sponsible for assisting faculty in locating, previewing, evaluating, and
acquiring instructional materials; a Media Production Service responsible
for providing facilities and equipment for production of instructional me-
dia, including photography, graphic, audio, and television production ser-
vices, and for training students in operation procedures and faculty on
utilization; and an Instructional Development Service responsible for de-
signing new instructional materials for class and individual use and for
assisting in curriculum development and evaluation. Supporting all of these
offices was a Technical Support Department responsible for maintaining
equipment including ITFS transmission facilities and for providing engi-
neering support services and TV production support.
In 1975-76 the Office of Educational Resources became administra-
tively related to the University Libraries as the Office of Learning Resources
with Dr. Mina B. Ghattas as Director. "The startling developments ... in
the field of communications" of which Dr. Knowles had spoken so many
years earlier had found a true home at Northeastern.
3
COMPUTATION CENTER
Another academic support service that came into existence during
this period, and whose creation was totally the result of new technology,
was the Computation Center. Established in 1959, when the University
acquired its first computer system, a 650 IBM, the Center was conceived
as a service department for education and research. In the early years,
however, a substantial amount of administrative work was also delegated
to it. (See Chapter XX for development of Financial Office computer
services and Administrative Computer Services. )
From its inception, the primary mission of the Center was to serve
the research and teaching needs of the faculty, research personnel, grad-
uate, and undergraduate students. Major academic services included the
following: instructing graduate and undergraduate students in computer
programming and processing such programs; providing laboratory facili-
284 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
ties for an associate's degree program in Electronic Data Processing offered
through University College; providing computer time, key punching, and
programming for various sponsored research programs; scoring and ana-
lyzing objective examinations; and providing equipment and consulting
services in the form of programming assistance to faculty members in-
volved in independent research.14 In the course of the next fifteen years,
there was little change in these objectives; there were, however, dramatic
changes in the Center's ability to provide these services.
In 1959 the Center opened with the first system, which was rented
from IBM at roughly $3,000 to $4,000 a month. Mr. Richard I. Carter was
appointed Director, with two full-time assistants to aid him, and the basic
functions of the Center were limned out. The total budget, including
equipment, supplies and salaries, came to approximately $40,000 a year.15
By 1965 the demand for computer services had expanded so rapidly
that the need for a totally new system with a considerably increased
capacity became essential. A "Preliminary Report of a Computer Study
Committee," prepared by Dean Ronald E. Scott of the College of Engi-
neering, followed by a series of memorandums from Mr. Carter to Pres-
ident Knowles, outlines what had happened. In summary what these papers
show is that in the first six years the Computation Center had increased
its computing power by a factor of eighteen, doubled its budget expendi-
ture to $87,383, and increased its staff from three to six full-time equiv-
alents. Equipment additions and modifications during this period include
the following: the September 1961 installation of an IBM 1620 (Model I),
which doubled the speed and storage to increase memory capacity 50
percent; the February 1964 installation of an IBM 1620 (Model II) which
increased speed to three times that of the Model I; and the December
1964 installation of an on-line printer to replace the initial 1959 tabulator
printer. Despite these changes, in November 1965, Mr. Carter wrote Dr.
Knowles that "it has become apparent that the growth rate of the Com-
putation Center has fallen behind the needs of the University."16 Mr.
Carter's recommendation was that a committee be established to consider
plans for the installation of a totally new system and the overhaul of
facilities. Such a committee was duly formed, and in early 1967 it approved
Mr. Carter's recommendations. In 1967-68, then, began what might be
considered as the second stage in the evolution of Northeastern's Com-
putation Center.
In 1967 the IBM 1620 (Model II), which had been extended as far as
it could go, was replaced by a Control Data Corporation CDC 3300, which
Libraries, Learning Resources, and Computation Center 285
expanded computer capacity by a factor of ten. The following year a Data
Educational Consulting Service was added and personnel doubled. While
the Consulting Service was not new, the office was; it thus allowed the
Center to better fulfill its original commitment to help faculty and research
persons with programming problems. At the same time, and in deference
to the expanding demands for computer services from administrative of-
fices, an Administrative Computer Service Office was established in 1967,
with Robert M. O'Brien, previously Assistant Director in the Computation
Center, appointed as its Director.
By the end of 1968, dramatic changes had already taken place. Equip-
ment costs had risen from $45,000 in 1965 to $80,000 in 1966—67, to
$144,000 in 1967-68; personnel had doubled, and the budget for salaries
had grown from $45,000, to $55,000, to $65,000, respectively. The Center
also expanded in terms of space allocation, going from 1,500 sq. ft. in 1965
to 2,500 sq. ft. in 1968. 1_7 More significant than mere numbers, however,
was the increasing importance that the Center came to play in academic
life. Two of the basic reasons for its growth were a growing maturity of
the industry with a corollary perfection of equipment allowing it to handle
more and increasingly varied tasks and a growing understanding and ap-
preciation by laymen for what computers could do. In 1959 the Center
had been seen as most relevant to engineering and pure science; by the
late 1960s, the applicability of computers to other fields, particularly the
social sciences, meant that demand on the Center skyrocketed.
In 1972 another equipment change occurred with the installation of
a CYBER 72, increasing the capacity of the system by still another 2.5
percent. This was the final major equipment change until 1980, although
a few other modest changes were enacted between 1972 and 1975. By this
latter date the overall budget for the Center had climbed to $475,000, with
approximately $300,000 of this amount going into equipment and supplies
and $125,000 going to meet salaries of personnel who now numbered
twelve full-time persons. At the same time, space allocation increased to
5,000 sq. ft. Altogether, the Computation Center, which in 1959 had been
seen as an almost maverick educational "frill," had become an essential
educational tool. Now, into the 1980s, it is difficult to imagine any major
university without such a service.
The expansion of the educational support services recounted above
contributed substantially to the enhancement of Northeastern's academic
reputation. Of course, these instructional academic support services were
not the only ones to flourish during this period. Compensatory and re-
286 ACADEMIC EXPANSION
medial support services, as well as counseling and testing, also experi-
enced great growth, but because these latter are more directly concerned
with the changing character of the student body than the substance of
academic programs, discussion of them has been reserved until later.
Unveiling of Northeastern s mascot, a bronze husky statue, fall
1962. From the left. Dean MacDonald, President Knowles, Student
Council President Robert L. Washburn, and Sophomore Class
President Suzanne M. Nourry.
The New England College of Pharmacy, Mount Vernon Street,
merged with Northeastern, 1961.
287
Mugar Life Sciences Building — dedicated in 1963 — was the first
building completed under the Diamond Anniversary Development
Program.
NORTHEASTERN U N I V E R S I T Y
Northeastern 's ROTC Brigade — one of the largest in the United
States. Shown in parade in the mid-1960s.
288
Boston-Bouve became one of the basic colleges of Northeastern in
1964. Seated: Marjorie Bouve; standing, from the left: President
Knowles, Minnie L. Lynn, Dean of Boston-Bouve, and Mary
Florence Stratton. Miss Bouve and Miss Stratton were among the
original founders of the school in 1913.
J&IIIIM
Northeastern s suburban campus in Burlington, dedicated on
May 23, 1964.
289
Frank Palmer Speare dormitory, opened in September 1964.
National Council of Northeastern University — Charter Meeting on
January 22, 1965 — was established to 'provide alumni leadership
in assisting the University to achieve its long-range objectives."
From the left: Vice Chairmen Henry C Jones '25, Theodore R.
Peary '32, Richard F. Spears '38, and Asa S. Knowles with
Chairman Harold A. Mock '23.
290
Northeastern crew triumphs in its first season, 1964-65, and goes
on to Henley.
Ell Student Center, opened in September 1965 and dedicated on
November 16, 1965.
291
'«vJL' • &
nu
NORTHEASTERN UNIVERSITY
HUSKY ASSOCIATES
PRESENTED
TO
IN RECOGNITION OF HIS SENEROUS SUPPORT
IN HELPING NORTHEASTERN UNIVERSITY ACHIEVE
THAT GREATNESS WHICH IS HER DESTINY
CHARTER MEMBER
1965-1968
Husky Associates was established in 1965 to provide an
unrestricted sustaining fund for Northeastern to use to achieve
"that greatness which is her destiny. "
Edwards Marine Science Laboratory in Nahant, acquired 1966,
dedicated on October 20, 1969.
292
The dedication of the Mary Gass Robinson Hall on April 7, ig66.
From the left: President Knowles, Dwight P. Robinson, Mary G
Robinson, and Byron K Elliott.
Edward S. Parsons and President Knowles in ig66.
293
PART THREE
EDUCATIONAL
METHODOLOGY
XIV
Cooperative Plan
of Education
AS HAS BEEN AMPLY DEMONSTRATED IN THE LAST SEVERAL CHAPTERS, THE 1960S
were a time of unprecedented opportunities for higher education; and
Northeastern's administration, capitalizing on these opportunities, went
about creating a second miracle on Huntington Avenue. The addition of
the doctoral programs and research, the expansion of Continuing
Education to encompass all levels and tap new constituencies, the
extension of the undergraduate colleges from four to ten (including a
college of technology and a totally new evening institution for part-time
adult students), as well as the accreditation of all programs were
effectively transforming a small, local, largely technical university into a
multifaceted institution of higher education enrolling almost 50,000
students and enjoying national visibility.
Although the aforementioned were all major achievements, they
pale in comparison with a parallel development that was taking place at
Northeastern during the same period: the development of the Cooperative
Plan of Education — a unique teaching/learning process that alternated
periods of supervised work with periods of academic study and that was
destined to become under Dr. Knowles one of the leading educational
movements in the last part of the twentieth century.
297
298 EDUCATIONAL METHODOLOGY
1
The Cooperative Plan of Education, of course, did not originate with
Dr. Knowles or with Northeastern. The movement had been begun in
1906 by Dr. Herman Schneider at the University of Cincinnati. During his
undergraduate years, when Schneider was studying to be an engineer, he
had worked part-time and summers to afford his education at Lehigh
University. Although his experience was not unusual, the questions he
asked of it were. What, he wondered, would happen if a university played
an active role in that work experience? What would happen if it supervised
and coordinated that work with classroom materials? Might not necessity
then be turned into a virtue? In the way of answers to these questions, Dr.
Schneider devised a "Cooperative Plan of Education" whereby a university,
through its contacts with business and industry, would not only help
students attain jobs but also would oversee and monitor their performance
to assure a correlation between what was being studied and what was
being done. Such a scheme, Schneider reasoned, would help students not
only economically but also academically by enhancing theory with prac-
tical experience. Such a plan would also help the university by making
higher education accessible to more students, and it would help business
and industry by assuring relevant classroom training for potential, future
full-time employees.
For several difficult years Schneider labored to convince a variety of
universities to adopt his idea. Finally, in 1906, he prevailed on the University
of Cincinnati, where he was serving as a faculty member in the College
of Engineering, to try out the first cooperative plan in that college. A few
years later and a few thousand miles away in Boston, Professor Hercules
W. Geromanos, reading about the University of Cincinnati's program, be-
came convinced that "Co-op" was equally applicable to Northeastern stu-
dents, and in 1909 the College of Engineering became the second in the
country to try cooperative education. In 1922 the plan was introduced
in the Northeastern College of Business Administration, and during the
same period, Dr. Arthur Morgan, President of Antioch College, having
recruited Northeastern's own Philip Nash to administer the program,
adapted it to its liberal arts curricula, thereby initiating the famous "An-
tioch Plan."
In spite of the success of these various operations, Dr. Schneider's
idea remained a relatively minor educational movement for the next fifty
years, although it did enjoy a small flourish of activity following World
War II as the country struggled to meet new manpower demands. Never-
theless, when Dr. Knowles returned to Northeastern in 1958, the term still
Cooperative Plan of Education 299
connoted to most educators little more than a gimmick, a "different" way
to help poorer students in a few isolated and largely vocational disciplines
pay for their education. To Asa Knowles, however, the Cooperative Plan
of Education meant a great deal more than that, and his conviction that
the Plan could and should become a major part of the learning process
in a wide variety of fields constituted one of his chief contributions to
Northeastern and to the educational world at large.
Dr. Knowles's own commitment to cooperative education stemmed
from his experience at Northeastern in the 1930s. At that time, when many
students could barely afford trolley fare, the young instructor had been
struck by a scheme that allowed them to afford an education. During a
period when the halls of academe and, ironically, even meaningful jobs
were all too often the privilege of an elite few, he had been intrigued by
a method that tried to provide not only a chance to study but a chance
to work. Nor were economic considerations the only aspect of cooperative
education that impressed the young Dr. Knowles. As early as 1940 he
began to articulate his own attitude toward work as an integral part of the
educational experience: "Curricula must face day to day situations in job
getting and earning a living. . . . Today's youth must be prepared for
citizenship in a democracy, taught how to earn a living and take part
. . . in a highly industrialized society."1
In the ensuing years after he had left Northeastern, the realization of
how much Northeastern had done through its Cooperative Plan, not only
to open doors into the classroom but also into meaningful life careers,
continued to haunt his imagination, and when Dr. Ell and the Board of
Trustees offered him the presidency of Northeastern, "the chance to do
something with cooperative education was," in Dr. Knowles's own words,
"one of the determining factors in my acceptance."
What Dr. Knowles intended to do in 1959 was to clarify what the
Cooperative Plan of Education actually meant, to demonstrate that it could
be applied in any professional discipline, and to achieve for the Plan serious
recognition by prominent educators. In addition, he was determined to
expand Northeastern's leadership in the field. By 1959 only fifty-five other
institutions had any form of cooperative education.2 Of these, only a hand-
ful made the system mandatory, and of this handful almost all were in
engineering and business. Northeastern, with 3,400 students on "Co-op"
in four colleges (Engineering, Business, Education, and Liberal Arts) and
with 1,700 job placements and 780 participating employers, was the ac-
300 EDUCATIONAL METHODOLOGY
knowledged star but in a small theater. It was Dr. Knowles's ambition to
extend the role and the theater. What he could not know, of course, was
that the particular social, political, and economic conditions of the 1960s
would make the development of cooperative education and subsequently
Northeastern go far beyond anything anyone anticipated.
The first step in the achievement of Dr. Knowles's plans took place
almost immediately after his inauguration: The name of the office that had
existed at Northeastern since the 1930s as the Office of Cooperative Work
was changed to the Department of Cooperative Education. At the same
time, Roy L. Wooldridge, who had served since the death of Winthrop E.
Nightingale in 1953 as Director of that Office, was appointed Dean as well
as Director. Small though these changes were, for those with eyes to see
they were profoundly significant. The change from "Work" to "Education"
clearly signified that aspect of the Plan which the new administration
intended to emphasize: "Co-op is not just part-time work or a summer
job. It involves a specific training program correlated with studies being
pursued."3 The addition of the title "Dean" made clear that "Co-op" was
not to be considered just another department but a major unit of the
University on a par with any of the colleges.
The second internal step was somewhat more complicated. It began
in the fall of i960 with the negotiations between the New England College
of Pharmacy and Northeastern. Although these negotiations were impor-
tant as a sign that Northeastern intended to expand, they were even more
important as a demonstration that the University was serious in its inten-
tion to extend the Cooperative Plan of Education to new areas of study.
In the early 1960s no pharmacy college in the country operated on
the Cooperative Plan, and there was understandably some apprehension
at initiating the first program. In favor of the idea was the fact that a
traditional pharmaceutical student needed a year's experience to qualify
for licensing — a requirement that might well be filled by the cooperative
work assignment. In opposition to the idea was the American Council on
Pharmaceutical Education's demand that a certain number of hours be
devoted to classroom study — a demand that would be difficult to accom-
modate without extending the degree time to a prohibitive six years. How
these problems were resolved has been covered in Chapter VII and need
not be repeated here, but what emerged with the final solution was an
image of an institution that was willing to listen to, adjust to, and accom-
modate any variety of demands, be it calendar, course offering, or expense,
but that would not compromise on the basic issue of cooperative education
as an integral part of undergraduate education.
As it turned out, negotiations were not overwhelmingly difficult. Dr.
Cooperative Plan of Education 301
Leroy C. Keaglc, President of the New England College of Pharmacy, was
predisposed in favor of the Plan; the American Association of Colleges of
Pharmacy was more than willing to cooperate, and thus on September 7,
1962, the country's first College of Pharmacy operated on the Cooperative
Plan of Education opened at Northeastern University.
In the next several years similar kinds of pioneering inroads would
be made into the fields of nursing, graduate actuarial science, graduate
accounting, physical therapy, recreation education, and criminal justice.
In not every instance, however, was the idea of cooperative education as
easily accepted as it had been for Pharmacy. In the relatively conservative
field of nursing, for example, there can be little question that the notion
of "Co-op" was understood as a real threat to more traditional nursing
education. As a consequence, the National League of Nursing raised issues
about Northeastern's program, which the University could not help feeling
reflected a basic fear of the new method, and only the adamant persistence
of Dr. Knowles, Dr. William C. White, and Dean Charlotte Voss, in tandem
with the growing respect for "Co-op" throughout the country, finally won
the day. (See Chapter VII.)
In other instances, as in the case of the merger with Bouve-Boston,
a genteel disinterest in the idea proved almost as much a stumbling block
as fierce opposition. Thomas E. McMahon, Associate Director of the Di-
vision of Cooperative Education, tells the story of a meeting between the
Dean of the College, Minnie E. Lynn, and Dr. William C. White in the mid-
1960s. Bouve had become part of Northeastern in the fall of 1964 with the
understanding that its programs of Physical Education and Physical Ther-
apy would be adapted to the Cooperative Plan as quickly as possible. It
soon became apparent, however, that the speed was far slower than an-
ticipated by Dr. White, who politely brought the lapse to the attention of
Dean Lynn and her staff. "But Bouve girls have their own tradition of
education, Dr. White," she reminded him loftily. "We can hardly expect
them to act precipitously." Responded the silver-haired Provost just as
gently, if through his teeth, "And Bouve was merged, ladies, on the grounds
that such tradition could be adapted to Co-op, so let us see that it is
done — now."
In spite of such contretemps, however, Dr. Knowles's contention that
the cooperative method was applicable in any professional field where
internship interspersed with classroom education could be made an in-
tegral part of the learning process prevailed and rapidly proved itself in
the example of Northeastern. Nor was the method limited to undergrad-
uate studies. In the early 1950s Northeastern had pioneered graduate "Co-
op" in the engineering field. In the 1960s this was extended, and by 1975
302 EDUCATIONAL METHODOLOGY
Northeastern was enrolling almost 650 graduate students in the Cooper-
ative Plan of Education in Engineering, Business Administration, Law, Ac-
counting, Actuarial Science, and in Chemistry at the doctoral level.
The success of the cooperative method in all of these areas is now
part of educational history, but some programs brought particular acclaim
to Northeastern by virtue of their sheer appropriateness to the demands
of time. The cooperative graduate programs in Accounting and Actuarial
Science, for example, represented uniquely practical solutions to increas-
ing manpower shortage problems in both these fields. Both accounting
and actuarial science require special examinations for acceptance into
higher levels of the professions, but while the need to fill these high-level
jobs was acute, few institutions or employers could afford the time out
necessary for training. Previous to Northeastern's programs, applicants for
these examinations had frequently studied on their own after hours, or
attended limited training programs offered through their industries. North-
eastern's cooperative graduate schools, which were based on an internship
program designed in conjunction with and supported by specific actuarial
and accounting firms, allowed the student to alternate study and work in
a structured scheme while simultaneously assuring the industry a constant
flow of qualified and much needed manpower.
The Cooperative School of Law also represented a practical solution
to a contemporary problem, although in this instance the question was
not so much manpower supply as the type of training available to that
manpower. In the early 1960s a Boston Herald editorial recounts the
growing alarm on the part of members of the American Trial Lawyers
Association that young lawyers were not equipped with appropriate court-
room preparation and were not sufficiently aware of law in operation.4
Northeastern's new School of Law addressed itself directly to this problem,
and through its Cooperative Plan, which incorporated the old-fashioned
apprentice system with modern classroom methodology, offered a solu-
tion. The success of this program was rapidly attested to by accreditation
from the American Bar Association and the Association of American Law
Schools, and went a long way toward demonstrating the validity of the
cooperative method in the teaching of highly sophisticated disciplines.
(See Chapter IX for further details on the Graduate "Co-op" Program.)
Although each of these graduate cooperative programs was developed
by the faculty and dean of the relevant field, the role of Alvah K. Borman
in promoting the concept of cooperative education on the graduate level
cannot be overlooked. Professor Borman had been instrumental in intro-
ducing the idea for Electrical Engineering students in the 1950s, and in
the 1960s he set up and served as the Director of Northeastern's first
Cooperative Plan of Education 303
Graduate Placement Services, which was responsible for finding suitable
"Co-op" placements at the graduate level.
Thus during the 1960s, the internal development of the University's
cooperative education programs flourished at all levels. Dr. Knowles was
determined that the Institution would be without equal in the field, and
it was. Nevertheless such development was not devoid of problems. Al-
though the University consistently maintained a 98 + percent average for
the placement of all qualified students into jobs, for every story of a history
student who went on from his "Co-op" position to become a working
member of the Boston Atheneum there were counterstories of philosophy
majors who had to content themselves with applying the principles of
Plato to the position of bank clerk. Certain fields naturally lent themselves
far more easily to relevant jobs than others, and faculty coordinators —
the persons in the Department of Cooperative Education charged with
finding students positions — had to constantly rack their minds and their
files to find appropriate positions. Yet in one sense this very difficulty was
an educational experience in itself, for students came to appreciate earlier
than their peers in other institutions the complexities of the market that
"Co-op" jobs so aptly reflected and to realize that the study of poetry is
no guarantee of a "poetic" paycheck.
At the same time, the sheer volume of students processed by the
Department of Cooperative Education, which had become a branch under
the Division of Cooperative Education in 1967, presented still further
problems. The mere existence of an educational method that was supposed
to satisfy the demands of students, business and industry, and the Uni-
versity was no guarantee that it could do so in each individual case. As
"Co-op" became more and more well known, as it extended into new
fields, as the student body became more heterogeneous, as the geographic
scope of "Co-op" placements as well as applications to Northeastern ex-
panded, and as more and more students, including those from foreign
lands, flooded into the University, the headaches of those who had to
accommodate these changes grew apace. "We would listen to Dr. Knowles
extolling the virtues of "Co-op" to the larger world," says Professor
McMahon, "reciting all that it could accomplish, and those of us down
here in the trenches who had to convince the engineering employer that
a woman really could work on a construction site would shiver." And for
those in the "trenches" — for those who had to implement the Cooperative
Plan of Education in which Dr. Knowles had such faith — the problems
cannot be minimized. To fully understand their dimensions, however, and
to appreciate some of the structures that came into being to deal with
them, the student of Northeastern history must first recognize what was
304 EDUCATIONAL METHODOLOGY
happening beyond Huntington Avenue which, to a large extent, contrib-
uted both to these problems and to their resolution.
While Northeastern was developing its own programs, an interest in
the Cooperative Plan of Education was also beginning to grow in the larger
world. Central to this growth was the founding in 1962 of the National
Commission for Cooperative Education, which became the voice for co-
operative education throughout the country. Through its services, edu-
cators, legislators, and the public at large were to become aware as never
before of the potential of this educational method to deal with problems
of developing institutions, of manpower training, and of program rele-
vancy. To the work of the National Commission, then, may be attributed
much of the new status that cooperative education was to enjoy by the
end of the decade.
The line of development leading to the formation of the Commission
can be traced back to May 1957, when a "Conference on Cooperative
Higher Education and the Impending Educational Crisis" was called to-
gether under the sponsorship of the Thomas Alva Edison Foundation. The
immediate antecedents to the conference had been the findings of a federal
Commission on Financing Higher Education, appointed in 1952, and a
President's Commission on Education Beyond the High School Level, ap-
pointed in 1956. Both of these commissions had recognized the growing
financial difficulties facing higher education as the tidal wave of postwar
babies reached college age. Although neither group had offered solutions,
nevertheless, their articulation of the problem had created a context fa-
vorable to the reexamination of "Co-op" as one means of dealing with the
situation. Consequently, Charles Kettering, then President of the Edison
Foundation, had summoned the May 1957 conference. Among the findings
of this conference were the explicit recognitions that "Cooperative ed-
ucation is a way of drawing upon human resources for education at a time
when present resources are in short supply. It is a way of establishing a
new and fruitful relationship between business and governmental insti-
tutions in our society and educational institutions"; and that "although
cooperative education is not an educational panacea, it is a very substantial
means of extending higher education in America."5
As a result of this conference, an extensive two-year study on National
Cooperative Education was planned. Ralph W. Tyler, Director of the Center
Cooperative Plan of Education 305
for Advanced Studies in Behavioral Sciences at Stanford University, a
staunch advocate of the cooperative method, and an internationally re-
nowned scholar, became the Chairman; James W. Wilson, a protege of
Tyler's and Dean of the College of (ieneral Studies at Rochester Institute,
was appointed Executive Director. The Fund for the Advancement of
Education under the Ford Foundation provided $95,250 toward financing
the study, subsequently published in 1961 as Work Study College Programs
by James W. Wilson and Edward H. Lyons (New York: Harper and Brothers,
1961).
Significantly, although Northeastern was generally recognized as the
chief practitioner of the cooperative method, the University did not take
part in the initial steps of the study. The reason was not lack of an invitation,
but simply Dr. Ell's contention that the chief business of Northeastern was
Northeastern, and thus he had declined to participate. Two years later,
however, when Dr. Knowles took office, this policy changed, for it was
the new president's feeling that the University must not only take a role,
but a very active role in any study touching on the Cooperative Plan of
Education.
Probably no other issue so aptly illustrates the distinction between
Dr. Ell and Dr. Knowles as the divergent attitudes of the two men toward
this matter. While Dr. Ell felt strongly that the best interests of the Uni-
versity lay in focusing all administrative attention within the white brick
walls on Huntington Avenue, Dr. Knowles felt just as strongly that the
future of Northeastern depended on developing and nurturing contacts
beyond those walls. The basic difference was a matter of personality, but
as time has amply proved and as one alumnus has aptly remarked, "North-
eastern was singularly blessed by having the right presidents at the right
time."
The idea of "giving Northeastern's information" to outsiders, of shar-
ing the fruits of hard-won experience with others, was not automatically
greeted with enthusiasm by some of the old guard at the University. To
these Dr. Knowles responded with an anecdote from his Maine childhood.
I was around six and electrical appliances were just coming to be
known in Northeast Harbor. Many of us still lit our homes with ker-
osene or gas, kept the perishables on ice cut from the pond, swept
the floors with brooms, and ironed the clothes with sad irons. Oh,
we knew about refrigerators, electric irons, and vacuum cleaners. We
knew you could press a switch and get light, but it just didn't seem
necessary. Then the major electrical companies got together. They
306 EDUCATIONAL METHODOLOGY
didn't start by trying to sell us a GE, a Westinghouse, or a Sunbeam.
Instead they took out a full page ad telling us all the glories of electrical
living. Well, in the space of a few weeks we were curious, in the space
of a few months we were downright anxious, and in the space of two
years it just didn't seem possible to get along without such appliances.
It wasn't until they got us to that point that we ever heard about
brand names.
Working from analogy, he reasoned that it would only be when the
Cooperative Plan of Education was fully understood, when there was a
real appetite for this system, that Northeastern could come into its own.
He also reasoned that, in light of the Edison Conference and the ensuing
Wilson publication, cooperative education might very well become the
wave of the future, no matter what Northeastern did, and that it would
be far wiser for the University to lead this parade than to follow it.
Shortly after his inauguration, then, Dr. Knowles made it quite clear
that Northeastern was not only ready but willing to cooperate. It was a
step that would have dramatic repercussions. In i960 and 1961 North-
eastern began to take an active role in Dr. Wilson's research. Consequently,
when as a result of this project plans were begun to institute a National
Commission on Cooperative Education that would promote and encourage
the use of this method throughout the country, both Byron K Elliott,
Chairman of the Board of Trustees of Northeastern, and President Knowles
were asked to be founding members. Dr. Ralph W. Tyler was appointed
Chairman — his name alone guaranteed the organization would have pres-
tige. President Knowles was appointed Vice Chairman and George E.
Probst, another protege of Tyler, previous head of the Chicago Round
Table and Executive Director of the Edison Foundation under Kettering,
became the Commission's first Executive Director. This was a formidable
roster, made no less formidable by the connection of these men with
important foundations, particularly with the Ford Foundation, which now
provided substantial funds to finance the Commission.
In October 1962 the National Commission on Cooperative Education
(NCCE) was officially incorporated. It was to serve as the voice of co-
operative education, particularly in Washington, and as Dr. Knowles per-
ceived could become a very powerful factor for directing the federal
government to favor this particular educational method. Working from
this premise, he donated 20 percent of the time of Northeastern's own
Dean of Cooperative Education to the work of the Commission. Thus,
from the organization's inception, Northeastern had a distinct and impor-
tant role in its operation.
The immediate and direct effect of the NCCE on Northeastern was
Cooperative Plan of Education 307
actually minimal. Its function after all was to serve as a missionary for an
idea, not for a particular institution. As a consultant to its Executive Di-
rector, Dr. Roy L. Wooldridge, with his counterpart from Antioch — Dr.
J. Dudley Dawson, did have to spend considerable time in New York
where the main office was located. As a consequence, an Assistant Director
of Cooperative Education, Professor Thomas E. McMahon, was appointed
to help ease the growing work load at home. Aside from this personnel
change, however, in the beginning the NCCE had little impact on Hun-
tington Avenue, where the chief concerns at this time were focused on
setting up a Graduate Division of Cooperative Education, overseeing the
initiation of the method into new academic areas, and serving as host to
the constant flood of visitors from as far off as Tanganyika and the Soviet
Union, who had come to observe this particular brand of American edu-
cation in operation.
Events on the national scene, however, would soon transpire to el-
evate the work of the Commission to a far more important place than
most of those who participated at its modest beginning could ever have
anticipated. The first and perhaps most important of these national events
was the accession of Lyndon Baines Johnson to the Presidency. Under
President Kennedy some inroads had been made in acquiring federal funds
for higher education. His most important contribution, however, had been
in creating the sense that something would be done. It was not until
President Johnson, in his State of the Union message of January 1964,
declared his "unconditional war on poverty," however, that the golden
age of higher education truly began.
Basic to Johnson's strategy in that war was his faith that education,
particularly higher education, was the chief means of social mobility in
our society. Thus almost immediately the new President began to push
the federal government to design ways that would increase accessibility
to colleges and universities. Congress proved receptive, and by late 1964
a series of social opportunity bills were already passed or in the works.
Among these was the Economic Opportunities Act, which created the
Office of Economic Opportunity and which also had a small proviso stip-
ulating that colleges and universities could establish work/study programs
for the benefit of needy students. The implications of this Act and of the
entire war on poverty were not lost on the NCCE. Almost overnight a
context had been created that brought cooperative education into the
forefront of national consideration.
It was during that summer, then, that the NCCE embarked on its first
big missionary venture. The Johnson Administration was planning a land-
mark higher education act: The time was ripe to assure that cooperative
308 EDUCATIONAL METHODOLOGY
education was mentioned. The strategy was simple. NCCE, although not
a lobbying group, would provide expert testimony to senators and rep-
resentatives on the advantages of cooperative education.
In the person of George E. Probst, the Commission had a particularly
dashing and eloquent spokesman. Although the Director was not excep-
tionally versed in the intricacies of the method, he was more than well
versed in a knowledge of people, particularly of senators and represen-
tatives. His list of acquaintances in powerful circles was also legendary.
Thus in the summer of 1964, Deans Wooldridge and Dawson and Director
Probst went to Washington, where they met with Wilbur Cohen, Assistant
Secretary of Health, Education and Welfare, and chief architect of the
impending bill. Roy Wooldridge recounts this story:
It was rumored that the new bill would have a section on work/study.
Up to that time work/study and cooperative education had been used
synonymously and we wanted them to change the name of that sec-
tion. We had a long conversation and Cohen listened patiently. "What
you are doing," he said when we had finished, "is marvelous. But the
practical reality is that we want financial aid for college students and
the Congressional mentality is such that the only way we can get
financial aid and legislation passed through Congress is for us to have
the word 'work' included." But even though he wouldn't change the
wording of the bill, Cohen got excited enough about what he heard
that he began to wonder if there shouldn't be incorporated in the bill
some kind of support for this other form of work/study that had been
around for so many years.6
When the bill was presented for hearing by the Senate Subcommittee, the
Commission was invited to testify, and subsequently, when the Higher
Education Act of 1965 was finally passed, it did include specific mention
of cooperative education. Under Section III — Developing Institutions —
there was the stipulation that such institutions could receive funds "for
the introduction, support and implementation of cooperative education."
Although the reference was small, it was significant and represented
a major victory for the Commission. For the first time the federal gov-
ernment had recognized "Co-op" as a distinct and particular type of higher
learning, and it had recognized it in the context of the national welfare.
Thus in a sense the NCCE had already justified its existence for North-
eastern. Although the term "developing institutions" had nothing directly
to do with the University — actually its primary reference was to small,
black colleges in the South — the mention of the method, particularly at
the federal level, stirred an interest in the Cooperative Plan, without which
nothing else could have happened. For Northeastern the incident was of
Cooperative Plan of Education 309
undeniable import. Where it could not speak for itself in matters relating
to the federal government's support of "Co-op," from its position of power
on the Commission it could speak. It was a situation not to be treated
casually, and, when at one point the NCCE was threatened with financial
problems, Dr. Knowles determined it worthwhile to pick up the tab even
at his own expense for, as demonstrated by this first victory in Washington,
the NCCE was an investment in Northeastern's own future.
The effect that the National Commission had on stimulating interest
in cooperative education cannot be overestimated. The effect that this
interest had on the shape and status of Northeastern was equally profound.
Thus, even before the passage of the 1965 Higher Education Act and as
a direct result of the promotional work done by the National Commission,
several institutions had already begun to contact the Commission's New
York Office for information on how they might introduce this method of
education to their own campuses. The Commission, capitalizing on its
connection to the Ford Foundation, referred these institutions to Ford's
Fund for the Advancement of Education, which in its turn agreed to finance
six colleges for a three-year period to implement the method if North-
eastern would provide the guidance.
Northeastern gladly accepted the assignment and was accordingly
granted $143,000 by the Fund for the Advancement of Education. Under
the stipulations of the grant, the University would provide consulting
services to the selected institutions but it might then, at its own discretion,
consult with as many other colleges as it wished. Thus in 1965-66, North-
eastern established its Center for Cooperative Education, which in essence
was to act in a complementary relationship with the NCCE, for while that
organization would carry the gospel of "Co-op" to the outside world, it
was Northeastern's Center that would provide actual guidance for
implementation.
Under the direction of Professor Charles F. Seaverns, Jr., an alumnus
of the University and the son of an alumnus, a man of great energy, de-
termination, and loyalty to a method that had served him well, the Center
became an immediate success. In the first few years alone, it provided
consulting services to as many as 350 colleges, conducted three- and four-
day workshops in Henderson House, and provided a host of programs
both on and off campus. It pioneered programs for the training of coor-
dinators, which became the prototype for all such programs, and further
designed a manual for their training, which is still used in the 1980s.
310 EDUCATIONAL METHODOLOGY
So successful, in fact, was the work of the Center that in 1968 the
Ford Foundation continued its support for another three years. As this
grant lapsed and before funds from the amended Higher Education Act of
1968 were appropriated, the federal government by administrative order
channeled $1,500,000 — or 1 percent of the funds earmarked for other forms
of work/study — to support expansion of cooperative education programs
and some of these funds helped support the Northeastern Center.
In 1971, Charles F. Seaverns, Jr. was forced to slow down his work
pace because of ill health, and Paul E. Dube, who had been with the
University since the mid-1950s, became the Center's Director. He brought
to the position keen intelligence and foresight, which assured not only the
continuation of the programs but also their extension into new areas. By
1975 the Center had provided service to literally hundreds of colleges and
universities and had been instrumental in giving them the know-how that
swelled the ranks of those offering some form of cooperative education
to almost 1,000 institutions. This, however, is to get ahead of our story.
In 1965-66 Northeastern opened its Center, and in a sense Dr. Knowles's
policy of participation was affirmed. He had cast Northeastern's lot with
the outside world, and already the outside world was turning to the Uni-
versity for guidance.
If the Center for Cooperative Education might be considered as the
first by-product of Northeastern's connection with the National Commis-
sion, the establishment in 1968 of a research professorship in cooperative
education might be considered the second. The work of the Commission
was undoubtedly stimulating new interest in the Cooperative Plan of Ed-
ucation, particularly among legislators and administrators who saw it as
a way of allaying part of the cost of higher education. However, it was the
concensus of those who worked in promoting the method that one of the
chief obstacles to general acceptance was resistance on the part of faculty
who did not fully understand the educational implications of the idea.
Even at Northeastern mutterings had been heard that "cooperative edu-
cation is inconsistent with the notion of a university as a community of
scholars."
Both President Knowles and now Vice President of Cooperative Ed-
ucation, Roy L. Wooldridge, attributed this lack of understanding to the
dearth of any really substantive scholarly material on the method. To
correct this situation, Northeastern now approached the Ford Foundation
with a proposal for an endowed Chair in Cooperative Education Research
to be established at the University.
At this point it is perhaps necessary to review the role of the Ford
Foundation in promoting the cause of cooperative education. Not only
Cooperative Plan of Education 311
had the Fund for the Advancement of Education provided financing for
the Edison Study, which resulted in the formation of the NCCE, but it had
also contributed to the support of that organization. From 1965 to 1971
the Fund was also the chief source of support for Northeastern's Center;
now in the fall of 1967 it made available a grant of $375,000 to be matched
by the University for the establishment of a research chair at Northeastern.
The following year Dr. James W. Wilson, who had served as the Executive
Director of the Edison Study, agreed to accept the Chair and become
Northeastern's first Research Professor of Cooperative Education. He was
charged with four major tasks: to assist in the development of graduate
programs on cooperative education, to do research, to publish, and to get
himself known.
Not unexpectedly, in view of the growing receptivity to cooperative
education, accomplishments in all these areas went forward rapidly. By
1969 Dr. Wilson had prevailed on Northeastern's College of Education to
accept a new graduate course, Cooperative Education in America, the only
such course in the country. Research on individuals active in cooperative
education, student-coordinator relationships, compensation for "Co-op"
students, and cooperative education in general had been completed, and
the findings of the latter three projects were published in the Journal of
Cooperative Education. In addition, Dr. Wilson's name had become one
to conjure with. Universities and colleges flooded him with invitations to
speak, Washington requested his assistance in preparing material for still
further amendments to the Higher Education Act, and federal and private
agencies sent to his office frequent proposals for research projects.
In 1971 President Knowles authorized an assistant to help Dr. Wilson
handle the work load. By 1973 there were four professionals, a handful of
secretaries, graduate assistants, and even work/study students, all engaged
in research relevant to cooperative education. At this point, then, it was
determined to group all these activities into one Center for Research in
Cooperative Education, the first and only such institution in the country.
This Center provided for the Cooperative Plan of Education the back-
ground of scholarly analysis that was essential for the true growth and
development of the cooperative method. In 1975 the Board of Trustees
designated the endowed Chair in Cooperative Education as the Asa Smal-
lidge Knowles Professorship of Cooperative Education. It was an appro-
priate designation, recognizing both the importance of that position and
the role of Dr. Knowles in developing and giving new status to the method.
By 1968, then, Dr. Knowles's earlier decision that Northeastern should
participate in the world of cooperative education beyond Huntington
Avenue had resulted in the University's leadership in a major national
312 EDUCATIONAL METHODOLOGY
organization and an important role in the formulation of federal legislation.
As a by-product of these actions, the University had gained considerable
prestige and, by virtue of its two new centers, had become the mecca for
both training and research in cooperative education.
In the early 1960s the problem of developing new institutions to
accommodate the increasing college-age population and of making this
education available to a new constituency had occupied national attention
and created a context favorable to the expansion of the Cooperative Plan
of Education. Johnson's "War on Poverty" had addressed itself to the issues
of development and accessibility and resulted in federal legislation sup-
portive of work/study programs as a means to ease the financial burden
of new institutions and to open admissions for students who might other-
wise not be able to afford higher education. The work of the National
Commission in paving the way for this legislation and the subsequent
effect on Northeastern have been recounted above. Had history stopped at
this point, the role of the Cooperative Plan of Education and of the Uni-
versity as its major proponent would still have commanded attention in
any story of American higher education. History, of course, did not stop,
and events of the next decade were to prove perhaps even more important
to the full realization of the potential of this method.
In the mid-1960s, Christopher Jencks, the New Left sociologist, writing on
Johnson's War on Poverty commented that "the government by concen-
trating on education, training and character building [assumes] that the
poor are poor not because the economy is mismanaged but because the
poor have something wrong with them."7 By the late 1960s, as the war in
Vietnam escalated, as riots ripped apart American cities, more and more
Americans, particularly young Americans, angrily began to share Jenck's
view. There was something wrong, they felt, with the management; and
the structures of that management, popularly referred to as "the estab-
lishment," needed reassessment.
As a result, general attitudes toward institutions, including educational
institutions, began to change in the latter half of the decade. Although
development and accessibility to colleges and universities were still im-
portant considerations, the programs offered in these institutions now
came under new scrutiny.
A student from an ivy league college writing about this time com-
ments, "We felt as if we were being shunted away from where things were
Cooperative Plan of Education 313
really at. It didn't help that many of us were in college just to stay out of
Vietnam; that, in fact, laid on an extra guilt trip. It was a helluva choice.
You were, as they said, either part of the problem or part of the solution.
You couldn't just sit around and study Latin "8 The need for relevancy,
which is implicit in this letter, had become the rallying cry of students.
At the same time, administrators, despairing of constant disruptions on
their campuses, were also beginning to look around for new approaches
that would help stem the tide of rising alienation.
One of the immediate effects of this situation was to create an at-
mosphere conducive to the exploration of alternative forms of education.
Traditional education had been found wanting. What else was possible?
On February 28, 1967, President Johnson, in his education message to
Congress calling attention to a specific form of education for the first time
in our history, proposed the Cooperative Plan of Education as one of those
alternatives: "A number of our colleges have highly successful programs
of cooperative education which permit students to vary periods of study
with periods of employment. This is an important educational innovation
that has demonstrated its effectiveness. It should be more widely applied
in our schools and universities."9
Significantly, the following year, when amendments to the 1965 Higher
Education Act were passed, the Cooperative Plan of Education was now
included under a new title, Title IVd, Student Assistance-Financial Aid.
This title authorized Congress to appropriate funds for cooperative edu-
cation not simply in "developing institutions" but in any institution wishing
to establish, strengthen, or implement the plan. Although the change did
at least recognize the pertinence of cooperative education to already
established institutions and to the middle-class student, it still laid stress
on the financial rather than educational advantages of the method. "We
still had a long way to go," said Roy Wooldridge speaking for the National
Commission, "to make the legislature fully aware of the potentials of 'Co-
op' as a way to counter the new educational problems."
If the new legislation, however, did not go as far as the National
Commission might have wished, it was highly significant, and, in combi-
nation with three major national studies that appeared at this time, it was
to have a profound effect on the future of cooperative education and again
on Northeastern. These three studies — the Carnegie Commission Report,
More Time Less Options, the American Academy of Arts and Sciences'
report on The Assembly on Goals and Governances, and the Department
of Health, Education and Welfare's report on Higher Education popularly
called the Newman Report after its author, Frank Newman — were all
published in 1971 and all came independently to the conclusion that the
314 EDUCATIONAL METHODOLOGY
lockstep of higher education must be broken if American institutions of
higher education were to be relevant to their students and to their society.
Further, each of the reports mentioned the Cooperative Plan of Education
as one way to break the lockstep.
As a consequence of the cry for relevance, of the new awareness
generated by the three studies that cooperative education might provide
that relevance, and of the federal legislation that made funds available to
develop such programs, more and more traditional colleges were becom-
ing interested in developing some form of cooperative education for use
in their own institutions. In September 1972, Dr. Knowles, addressing the
Board of Trustees, summarized his awareness of the situation and sug-
gested a role for Northeastern:
The demand for relevance on the part of students has resulted in the
current popularity of off-campus experience. . . . The Congress of
the United States has authorized $10 million in each of the next three
years (Title IVd) to assist colleges to adopt cooperative education. . . .
Dartmouth College has developed a "stop out" program which is a
type of cooperative education. Harvard has a new off-campus expe-
rience office. . . . Northeastern can sit back and try to protect its
present interests — that is, retaining for itself 2,200—2,500 employers
with which the University now works or it can take a position of
leadership as the central placement office.10
Three months later on January 12, 1973, the Board of Trustees voted
"to approve in principle the organization of an Institute for Experiential
Education (later changed to Institute for Off Campus Experience and
Cooperative Education) to be a separate corporation controlled and man-
aged by Northeastern."11
Once again, the University proved itself not only sensitive to the
conditions of the time but also ready, willing, and able to do something
concrete about those conditions. Just as the creation of the Center for
Cooperative Education had assured that Northeastern would be the leader
in the implementation of "Co-op" programs, just as the creation of the
Research Chair in Cooperative Education had assured that it would be the
leader in scholarship on the method, now the creation of the Institute for
Off Campus Experience and Cooperative Education assured that it would
be the leader in the placement of students in cooperative positions.
While there were opponents of the Institute who argued that the new
organization would mean that Northeastern would now have to share with
other institutions the University's own job contacts that had been devel-
oped so arduously over long years, Dr. Knowles contended that such a
disadvantage would be more than offset by the goodwill generated through
Cooperative Plan of Education 315
such an organization. He also and quite pragmatically reasoned that as
other institutions would make business/industrial contacts anyhow, it was
better for Northeastern to be the central clearinghouse — to retain, as it
were, control over what students were placed where — than to risk the
confusion that would result from competing and overlapping placement
offices.
In the spring of 1973, then, the Institute went into operation as a
separate corporate entity, offering what became known as The College
Venture Program. Its function was to serve as a central clearinghouse for
potential "Co-op" jobs, to contact employers, and to place students from
contracting colleges into appropriate positions. Initial contracting colleges
included Amherst, Bates, Brown, Colby, Connecticut College, Dartmouth,
Hampshire, Mt. Holyoke, Trinity, Tufts, Wesleyan, and Wheaton. Each of
these paid a stipulated fee for the service, which, along with generous
grants from the Exxon, Carnegie, Lilly, and Braitmayer foundations, was
sufficient to finance the operation, at least initially. Unfortunately, how-
ever, the particular corporate structure of the new Institute did not allow
for continuance of a tax-exempt status, and contributions were not enough
to cover costs without such exemption. By 1974, then, it was deemed
expedient to disband the separate corporate structure, and the Institute
was subsequently absorbed into Northeastern's Center for Cooperative
Education, where it continued to provide resources to member institutions
until 1978.
Despite its short life, the importance of the Institute's College Venture
Program should not be minimized. During its brief five years, it had served
as one more way of demonstrating the educational potential of the co-
operative method of education. During the period of its existence, co-
operative education, in one form or another, was introduced on nineteen
different campuses. During a period of crisis, traditional colleges, which
might previously have looked askance at "Co-op" as primarily vocational
or pertinent only to disadvantaged students, now began to understand what
Herman Schneider had meant back in 1906 when he declared that work
experience enhanced and gave substance to classroom theory. The fact
that students wanted this experience and that they would accept it as an
alternative to dropping out opened the eyes of many educators to the
potentials of the method.
The crisis on college campuses, thus, actually served to help the cause of
cooperative education. Ironically, during a period when the old and young
seldom saw eye to eye, this method of education seemed to satisfy two
very different groups. Students, demanding to know what their education
316 EDUCATIONAL METHODOLOGY
was all about, what it was "relevant" to, welcomed the chance to get out
of the ivory tower, to work, to find out first hand whether theory had
anything to do with life. At the same time, such staunch "establishment"
conservatives as Senator George Murphy, ex-actor and Republican from
California, were exultant about the method, although for somewhat dif-
ferent reasons. Roy L. Wooldridge tells the story of his encounter with
Senator George Murphy in 1971 when the National Commission was work-
ing for even more recognition for cooperative education at the federal
level:
By this time we had discovered in our dealings with Congress that it
was relatively easy to get politicians highly excited about cooperative
education. A typical reaction of either Republican or Democrat, it
didn't matter which party, was to listen to us describing "Co-op" and
then exclaim: "You mean you're describing a program whereby the
youth of our country can go out into American business and industry
and by the sweat of their labor earn money and use that to pay for
their education." And we would always say, "Well, that's not the prime
purpose, the prime purpose of "Co-op" is to generate experience that
supplements their education. However, what you've discovered is a
by-product of the cooperative method. And it works." And then they'd
always respond, "My God, that's an American idea. Work, industry. It's
the American system."12
This was the exact response of Senator Murphy, who, in fact, was so
delighted with the idea as "American" that he was the one to petition
Robert Finch, then Secretary of HEW under President Nixon, to channel
the aforementioned $1,500,000, or 1 percent, from funds appropriated
under the Higher Education Act of 1968 for work/study programs to the
support of the expansion of cooperative education. That Murphy's attitude
was shared by others became clear when the new Higher Education Act
of 1972 made explicit the authorization of $10,750,000 to cooperative
education under Title IV, and that amount was appropriated. Relevancy,
however, was not the only issue of the period that served to broaden the
interest and understanding of cooperative education.
6
As the 1970s got underway, recession and inflation were to trigger
still new interest in the cooperative method but now emphasis began to
focus on this particular system as a way to counter growing manpower
and cost crises. On April 20 and 21, 1972, a National Conference on Co-
operative Education was held in Newton, Massachusetts. Its function was
Cooperative Plan of Education 317
to explore the possibilities of establishing closer ties between higher
education and business, to discuss the relevance of higher education to
changing manpower needs, and to consider curriculum innovations that
might be necessary to serve the career aspirations of college and university
students.
The Conference was sponsored by the National Council, an alumni
organization of Northeastern University, the U.S. Office of Education, the
Manpower Institute in Washington, and the National Commission for Co-
operative Education. Featured speakers included W. Willard Wirtz, former
Secretary of Labor and President of the Manpower Institute, Dr. Frank
Newman of Stanford University and Chairman of the Task Force on Higher
Education of the U.S. Office of Education, Dr. Paul Samuelson, Nobel prize-
winning economist at MIT, and Peter P. Muirhead, Executive Deputy Com-
missioner of the U.S. Office of Education. In retrospect, the significance
of this meeting seems even more important than it did at the time. What
it did was to make clear an awareness of problems that were only just
beginning to emerge and to make clear the capacity of cooperative edu-
cation to meet some of these problems.
The following litany of statistics broadly suggests the dimension of
what was to happen and what educators would have to contend with in
the next decade:
Between i960 and 1970 education enrollment in the United States
rose from 3,215,000 to 7,545,340.
In 1977 approximately 1.3 million bachelor's, master's, and doctoral
degrees were awarded — nearly double the annual level of a decade
earlier — yet during the same period, the number of professional and
managerial jobs in the U.S. had grown little more than one-third.
In 1977, the Bureau of Labor Statistics projected some 950,000 and
more graduates than the number of jobs traditionally requiring
degrees.
Between 1967 and 1978 tuition costs in major universities increased
as much as 150 percent.
By 1975 almost all universities were confronting smaller budgets than
they felt essential.
By 1978 close to 400,000 former students who had taken out federally
insured loans had declared themselves bankrupt or simply refused to
pay — a default that exceeded 12 percent.13
It requires no particularly subtle mind to fathom the significance of these
statistics. In the decade of the 1970s the United States was to suffer an
acute educational crisis, in which one important element was the leveling
318 EDUCATIONAL METHODOLOGY
off of federal grants to education. It was a crisis, however, with which the
Cooperative Plan of 
Live Music Archive
Librivox Free Audio
Metropolitan Museum
Cleveland Museum of Art
Internet Arcade
Console Living Room
Open Library
American Libraries
TV News
Understanding 9/11